


What Do You Want?

by The_Writing_Mobster



Category: Underfell-fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Adult Content, Adult Frisk (Undertale), Adultery, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgore is a tyrant, Attempted Kidnapping, Bara Sans (Undertale), Bilingual Frisk, Drowning, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Frisk (Undertale), Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Not all the monsters are evil (they're just oppressed), Not your average Underfell story, Organized Crime, Past Domestic Violence, Political Drama, Prostitution, Romance, Sans is an asshole (but that wasn't surprising), Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters, Waterboarding, Yes this passes the Bechdal Test, You will hate me and love me just as much as I hate and love myself, there's some really cute stuff but we have to work hard for it, when i say slow burn i mean slow burn, womanly solidarity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:22:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 66
Words: 284,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Writing_Mobster/pseuds/The_Writing_Mobster
Summary: Frisk spent most of her life fighting to survive in a cruel world where her only upper hand was her soul's Determination and her feminine charms. After angering the most dangerous man in her life, she is thrown down into Hell to be ripped apart and destroyed by the demons said to inhabit it. With her soul refusing to give up, of course she survives.However, when she is taken hostage by the infamous Gaster brothers, she finds herself trapped in the strange, abyssal gaze of Sans the Skeleton. With political and sexual tensions on the rise, can these two work through their differences? Or will they forever be asking each other, "What Do You Want?"
Relationships: Frisk/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 838
Kudos: 734





	1. Murder Dock

_Part One: Demons._

_Chapter One: The Murder Docks._

* * *

She was dead. She was dead meat. Her heart thundered against her chest. There was nothing but darkness and fear. She had fucked up big time, and he'd had enough. How had it come to this? That was the only thing that the young woman could think of as she was frog marched down a dock. A gaping black hole loomed below her. Her hands were bound behind her back and her eyes were blindfolded. However, she didn't have to see to know where she was. The murder docks of Ebbot City weren't exactly the most subtle of places. She had been here many a time. 

"I have orders to kill ya...you made the boss real mad," uttered a dark voice behind her. The girl swallowed back a whimper. So...Leo was the one to do it. She was terrified, and why wouldn't she be? They were going to kill her. How did it come to this? 

If the girl knew anything, it's that she had gotten what was coming to her. A gun clicked behind her and her breath hitched. She knew she deserved this, but her soul was burning in her chest. She didn't _want_ to die. Maybe she really was as crazy as everyone said she was. Crazy that now, even after being kidnapped from her shitty motel room, thrown in the trunk of a car and driven to the murder docks on Ebbot Peak, she was still trying to worm her way out of it. 

"You don't want to shoot me, _amore mio_ ," she whispered, the last, tantalizing words in Italian. She tried to make her voice as sugar laced as possible. Usually the girl tried to stay quiet. The girl tried not to talk at all unless necessary. Talking got her in trouble. People didn't want her to talk. But now that the girl was already in deep shit, she didn't see the point in staying quiet. Besides, when she _did_ talk, she had a way with words.

Leo chuckled darkly behind her and wound his hand through her short, dark hair. There was once a time when there was some tenderness in his fingers. She winced when he gave a slight tug. That tenderness was gone now. 

"Sorry babe, that little trick of yours isn't going to work on me this time...you fucked up... _e avevo l'ordine di darti in pasto ai mostri_ ," he murmured into her hair. She knew what they would do to her. Kill her, take her soul and then dump her body into the Inferno for demons to feast on. Her lip trembled. 

"Please... Leo. Don't do this...you're better than this, I know you don't want to kill me...after everything..." she pleaded, once more trying to make him feel special, try to make herself desirable. Sometimes men were easy...but she could tell she was fighting a losing battle. She'd only have one other option if he refused her again. 

"I ain't got much of a choice," he spat. She took a deep breath. She was running out of options. Fight or let him put a bullet through her skull? The choice was obvious.

"I'm sorry Leo." The woman spun around, her foot flying up in a fan kick, knocking the gun clean out of his grip. If she was going to go down, she would go down _fighting_. 

" _Puttana del cazzo!_ " He snarled in Italian, slapping her across the face. He grabbed her, the two struggling against each other at the edge of the dock. He forced her onto her back and she screamed, her legs kicking and thrashing against him. The blindfold was ripped off in the tussle, the light of the moon piercing her eyes as he dragged her up. With her arms bound behind her back, it was impossible to over power him. 

There was a moment as he held her in a vice grip, their heavy breaths filling the silence. She gasped as he pressed his lips hard against her in a sloppy, hate-filled kiss. For a moment, she thought there was hope...and then he flung her over the edge. She screamed. Oh how she screamed as she fell to her certain death. All she could see as she tumbled through the air was the faint silhouette of Leo against the moonlight. And then darkness. And then pain. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


The girl didn't know how long she had laid there. In fact, she was sure she was dead. After all, she was surrounded by darkness. For a time, one might argue that she had died. Or at least had gone unconscious for a period of time. 

Then a dull pain, that seemed to pulse and throb through the darkness, forced her to awaken. Or maybe it was the sickeningly sweet smell of flowers. Whatever it was, it dragged her away from the comforting abyss of what she had thought was death. She would've welcomed it, had it not been for some strange determination pushing her to live just one more day. That fiery resolve deep within her bones had not let her slip into the darkness, and finally the girl snapped awake. Her chest was glowing a faint red, but as her eyes adjusted, her soul faded from her view.

She gasped for air and a sharp pain stabbed her, she was lying on her side. Her ribs had broken and her shoulder was cracked and out of place. Just above, up where the light peeked down at her, she could see the pale yellow flush of a sunrise. Surrounding her were strangling weeds and thousands of golden flowers. It was ironic to think it a grave bed for her, one she had woken up from. At the reminder that yes, she was still alive, the girl let out a moan of pain and bit down on her lip. How had it come to this? This was a nightmare! 

She whimpered as she tried to pull herself off the ground, despite her ribs screaming at her to just lay back down and rot. Maybe become some kind of fertilizer for the golden flowers. She sighed. No. She wouldn't. She was infuriatingly bent on living.

Her arms were still bound, but she couldn't give up just yet.

_"Oh putain de bordel de saloperie de merde!"_ Screamed the girl in her native tongue as she pushed through the pain, she had known pain. Pain was temporary, and although it hurt like a bitch, and she was almost tempted to just sit back and let the monsters devour her, the girl was just too stubborn. Those bastards had wanted her dead, and if she was going to die, it was going to be on her terms.

They had wanted her soul too. Without that prized possession, she knew Damian Alessandro Valeska would be after her. She couldn't give him the satisfaction of finding her at the bottom of the hole, and quite frankly, the girl was terrified of what he would do to her if he did find her alive. 

No. She had to keep moving. She couldn't let him find her. He would kill her in more ways than one, and unlike Leo, he would make sure she stayed dead. That's what he did to traitors.

The girl rather liked keeping her soul in her body. Despite all her hardships, she loved life too much to die. So, she pulled herself up and fought through the pain. She wheezed and moaned as she hoisted herself to her feet.

The girl stumbled down a dark corridor, the light of the morning sun fading away; replaced by nothing but darkness. Each step and breath she took sent a stab of pain through her chest and her eyes welled up with tears. It wasn't long before she was met by a smoldering torch and an archway. _'Turn away ye who can not see through darkness or stand through trials, for hell has no patience for the weak and heavy hearted.'_ The girl tried not to think too long about what the quote meant. Or what it specifically meant for her. 

Every child had heard the legends and historical accounts of demons hiding in the heart of this mountain. She had to be crazy to stand at this archway now and not turn away in terror. But whatever monsters were awaiting her down here in hell...she knew they were nothing compared to the man who would be after her when word got out that Leo had failed.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And here we are, at the end! I do hope you keep reading. 
> 
> This story is separated into 4 parts. Each part has 20 chapters and I will be updating every weekend, so buckle up. 
> 
> Please comment and review! <3


	2. Ruined

**Quick Announcement:**

**1.) I'm updating sooner because the first chapter is really short and I wanted to give you all more to read. This is the only time I'll post out of schedule though hehe.**

**2.) I want to share a dear friend of mine's story. It has some really great world building for the Undertale universe and I love it! Besides, she has been so supportive of this story!**

[Overtale: Written in the Flowers by Pastelle Nebula](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966509/chapters/39874539)

**Without further ado, please enjoy the next chapter of What Do You Want? **

* * *

Chapter Two: Ruined 

* * *

Wind whistled through the dark cavern as the girl descended down into the depths of the earth. The ground was slippery, shale and overgrown with weeds. At one point, the girl lost her footing and without her hands to balance herself, she tumbled. Her body screamed in pain, and she let out a distraught wail. 

She lay there for a good few minutes, her head and heart pounding. Above her, a small sliver of light peered down at her, breaking away the darkness. She had hit her head and her cracked ribs stabbed at her muscles and groaned. She bit back a sob. Why had Leo of all people been the one to do this to her? Her soul pulsed deep within her and she whimpered. She was filled with a steely resolve and she released a guttural scream as she dragged herself back to her feet. The girl panted, whimpering as her body shook and threatened to give way to her exhaustion and agony. No. She _had_ to keep going.

“Hello..?” a weak voice called. The girl’s breath hitched in her throat as an icy dread crept up her body. She looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice...or find somewhere to hide. 

“Who...Who’s there?” squeaked the voice. The girl swallowed as she tried to determine whether or not she was in danger. She strained to see who was speaking, nothing but a soft golden thread of light falling on a bed of golden flowers. Vines hung from the cavern ceiling, and stalagmites and stalactites towered over and around her. She gasped as she saw something move in the flower bed and she pressed herself against the shadows. A vice like terror filled her. It was a demon, it had to be. A monster of all those legends and tales! 

A flower rose from the bed, trembling as if its whole being was shrouded in terror. The girl’s eyes bulged as they stared at each other. It had some sort of face; large, black, beady eyes and a gaping, seed-filled mouth that contorted and twisted as it formed _words._ That icy dread spilled out of her and she gasped, stumbling back. The flower whirled around and snarled. 

"Get away from me!" It snarled. The girl could feel her soul burn as the demon sought out her presence. Her eyes widened; the flower shot at her. She could see only the front outline of white as bullet like seeds flew at her body. One of the seeds hit her shoulder and she stumbled back, letting out a wail of surprise. 

Her foot tangled against weeds and she fell to the ground again. She yelped with pain as her cracked rib shifted and ground against her sheath of muscle. Her shoulder hit the ground and fresh blood began to seep through her shirt. She bit back another agonized whimper as tears flooded her eyes. 

“Who are y—wait...that soul...you—you're not a...Oh my, I'm so sorry," whimpered the flower. It spoke English! The girl couldn't begin to wrap her mind around it.

One second the monstrous flower had been in the sliver of light, and then it was by her side. She whimpered and tried to drag herself away from it, her eyes wide with terror. She had known monsters were terrifying, but she hadn’t truly known just how horrifying they actually looked, or the pain their magic inflicted. 

"Get away! _Démon!"_ She choked, holding up her hand as she tried to crawl away from the little creature. A hatred for Leo and what he had done to her after everything filled her. The flower shushed her. 

"You...you’re a human aren’t you? Oh my...oh my, this is…I'm so sorry, I thought you were...a monster,” it whispered to her. She could not drag her eyes away from its mouth, the way it weaved around the words it spoke, it was hypnotically gruesome. She grew confused by its words. What did it mean it thought she was a monster? _It_ was a monster! As it drew closer, she whimpered and flinched away. She squeezed her eyes shut as new tears streamed down her cheeks. 

“You’re in terrible danger…” it breathed, its voice shaking with fear. What was _it_ afraid of? The girl shuddered, her teeth ground together as she tried to fight her pain. That fact didn't surprise her. She had always been in danger. Now she was just facing new horrors. 

“You’re hurt…” it said with new tenderness. It was then that the girl glanced up at the creature. She was confused by its sudden kindness. Why was it showing compassion? _How_ was it showing compassion? It was a demon! She forced her eyes open, tears streaming down her face. 

“I...I…” she stammered, trying to find her words. The girl wasn't one to talk much, but this completely threw all concept of language out from the window. The flower merely shook its head.

“Let me help you, let me make it up to you...if you’re not in good shape, it’ll just make it easier for her to take you,” it whispered, its beedy, black eyes darting about with new panic. The girl’s eyes widened. Who was it talking about? Was it another hideous flower? She didn't trust the creature as far as she could spit, but she was foreign and God knew she could use any help she could get. 

Slowly, as she stared at this little creature, she gave a small, resolved sigh and fought past her fear and pain. She hesitantly crawled into the light, every move sent shoots of pain so agonizing she wanted to lie down and cry. Not to mention, the way the flower moved terribly disturbed her. The way its roots crawled through the ground, it was as if she were watching a plant grow on timelapse. 

“Who...who is she?” asked the girl, her voice came out hoarse and shaky, as if she hadn’t spoken in years. The flower looked up at her. 

“Hopefully you’ll never have to find out. Come here, let me untie those ropes,” said the flower. She clenched her jaw at the cryptic answer. She didn’t exactly want the creature anywhere near her, but what choice did she really have? Sometimes, one had to trust even the most dastardly of people to get ahead in life, or to get out of a worse situation. This was one of those times. She nodded and looked away as the flower crawled toward her. 

"You're not the first to come down here," said the creature. The girl nodded knowingly and breathed a long sigh as the ropes snapped and gave way. Her hurt arm hung limply. It needed to be popped back into place and put into a sling. She was lucky her ribs hadn't pierced her lungs. 

"I know…" she whispered. She remembered the countless times she had accompanied people like Leo to the Murder Dock. She remembered the people they killed. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

"Countless bodies. You're one of the only live ones though. Not the first but...it's rare. What goes on up there...I wonder…" it murmured, and the girl knew it was more to itself than to her. She didn't feel inclined to answer. It did remind her just who she had escaped and she groaned, rising from the ground. She rolled her neck and rubbed her wrists to ease the ache the tight ropes had caused. 

"Awful things," she said quietly, she looked down at the flower as it glanced at her. 

"Can't be worse than the Underground...in this world it's Kill or...be killed," it murmured. The girl bit her lip. 

"Well...you haven't killed me yet...why did you stop fighting?" She asked, her dark eyes narrowing down at him. The flower smiled at her and she shuddered at that revolting mouth. 

"It was only self defense..." the flower's voice trailed away and she lifted her nose as she studied it. Him. It was a him. She found she understood him in a strange way. The girl swallowed and looked around the room. The sliver of golden light faded to dim, dreary grey as a cloud must've passed over. 

"We should get moving. She comes down here every week to find the bodies. If she finds you, you're as good as dead," he said. She arched a brow.

"We?" She asked. The flower smiled at her. The girl clenched her jaw. She'd probably never be used to that. 

"Let's face it...you're—hide. _Now._ " Hissed the flower, before he seemed to drag himself underground. The girl's heart began to thud with new panic as she looked around frantically. Her arm ached, the wound in her shoulder stung and her ribs threatened to crumble. Her soul, however, burned with a fiery resolve that she would not go down yet. Not yet. 

So she stumbled to the shadows and pressed herself behind a stalagmite. Her heart pounded against her chest and she bit her lip. She didn't have time for this. Any moment Leo's failure would be made known and she would be hunted down. 

A soft hum filled the chamber and she clenched her jaw. The girl held her breath in wait as the hum grew louder. A sweet voice. A lullaby that beckoned her. The girl felt something pull at her soul and she peeked her head out from the cover of the column. 

She paled at the sight. Now _that_ was a monster. The demon was a giant; with small, sharp, ebony horns that glinted in the light. A worn black tunic covered the monster. The girl couldn't stifle the gasp that rose from her throat. It was exactly what the legends told of. Ginormous… horrible… 

The monster looked up, her fiery yellow eyes latching onto the girl's small form hiding in the shadows. A slow smile grew on the demon's face and the girl's heart raced. Oh she was such an idiot! 

"Could it be? Oh don't hide now...don't hide from me... don't hide from _Toriel_ ," coaxed the demon. Her voice was shaky, and once honey like, but now rough and edged with aggression. The girl was terrified. Her stomach was clenched so tightly she might've puked. The more she breathed, the more she found it harder to breath and the more in pain she was. 

"I can smell your blood, child...come out," demanded Toriel. The girl whimpered, but before she could move, her body was grabbed from behind. She screamed as the monster dragged her out from cover. 

"What a poor, defenseless girl! You...you...look like her..." Whispered the demoness. The girl screamed, her whole body shaking as the monster cradled her. She was like a baby in Toriel's arms. The girl, wounded, terrified and on the brink of dropping from exhaustion, had just enough in her to thrash and scream. That's all she could do. The demoness merely crooned and began to rock the girl. She was taken aback, her eyes wide with both confusion and fear. 

"Hush little baby, don't you cry, Mama's gonna sing you a lullaby...could it be? My baby has returned to me? Oh this is destiny my child..." She whispered. The girl's chest racked as she panted breathlessly. What was going on? 

The girl stared up at the wide, yellow eyes boring down on her. They had a distant look in them. The girl's lip trembled as she sat stiffly in this demon's arms. She had uncharacteristically soft fur that threatened to envelope and suffocate her. Despite the terror, she found that this monster had a strange, alluring beauty. 

"You are seriously injured…this will not do, will it?" Murmured Toriel, more to herself. The girl swallowed; a small whimper escaping her as she weakly tried to struggle against the viper like grip of the monster. It was no use though. The flower's warning was all she could think about. This was the monster that the weed had been so afraid of. All the girl could wonder was why? The obvious physical reasons of course. But there was something else. The girl couldn't put her finger on it, but she was terrified nonetheless. 

Before she could protest, or fight back—before she could scream and kick, Toriel's hand came to her forehead. Her breath stilled as the monster began to whisper in a language unknown to her. Her soul began to glow softly, filling her with a warmth that dragged her under the surface of her consciousness. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she faded into a warm darkness. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


_The scratch of a record player. The static of a TV. A woman's scream. A creaking bed. The plucking, twinkling notes of a music box. A woman's scream. The slam of a door. A shatter of glass. A woman's scream. Heavy pants for air. Rabid, barking dogs. A woman's scream. A woman's scream...a woman's scream… A…_

  
  


⁂

"DAMIAN!" The girl shot up as she screamed and gasped for air. She was trapped! She couldn't move her legs! Her breaths came out in heavy pants and cries as she tried to orientate herself. 

It was warm, and dark, but as her eyes adjusted she saw a soft light piercing through the shadows. There was a light on the outside of a door. She was in a room. Ok. Her hands gripped the large, heavy, almost suffocating covers. She was in a bed. It was a small bed that fit her perfectly. There was a window looking outside, but the shutters were closed and heavy curtains blocked any light from seeping in. 

The girl slowly dragged herself out from the bed and looked around. The events replayed in her mind. The hideous, but helpful flower creature...and then the demoness. She was...she must've been being held captive. 

She whimpered as she looked about. The walls towered over her, and in the dark she could make out paintings or...no, photos? A small baby monster. Another photo had been turned around against the wall so only the cardboard backing would show. There were boxes all around, and she began to notice that those boxes were filled with large stuffed animals and toys. 

She felt like a nine year old all over again. The girl looked down and noticed that she was wearing new clothes. Gone was the blood-soaked tube top, and skinny jeans. She now had on a frilly nightgown that seemed to have belonged to a little girl. She felt so many levels of discomfort, especially after realizing that the demoness had undressed her! 

The girl choked at the fact. Then another thought hit her; her arm was no longer in pain, and the wound caused by the flower was all healed up. Her ribs only ached slightly and she began to fear just how long she had been out. 

Surely not that long! Tears began to well in her eyes as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do next. The door creaked open, snapping her out of her panicked daze. 

"Are you ok my child? I heard your cries of distress," the monster said with her soft, sugary voice. Her shadow loomed in the door frame, and her yellow eyes seemed to glow on their own. The woman trembled in her presence. This had to be just one long nightmare. The initial shock she had experienced her first day in hell however, was beginning to wear off. Probably due to the rest. 

"I'm not a child," she murmured as Toriel picked her up and carried her out of the room. She didn't like this, but it certainly beat dying out there to some demon. She'd have to play this smart. The girl was smart. She had survived. She had survived a lot of things… 

"What was that? Oh, you have such a sweet little voice," crooned the elderly woman. The girl came to the conclusion that she'd just have to play along until she could find a way to leave. She had survived before by being what those men had wanted her to be...she'd survive now. She'd be whatever this monster wanted her to be until she could figure out a way to leave. Just like...Just like always. She'd be a child. Even if she was old enough to drink and… do other things. 

"Oh...thank you...m- _mother_ ," she murmured. A strange shiver shot through her body as the demoness froze. 

"Mother? Did you call me mother? No one's called me that since…" her voice trailed off as the girl's eyes wandered around. There was a roaring fireplace in a huge living room. Bear skins, or what she assumed were bear skins draped over the floor and furniture. There was a large armchair with a knitted blanket hung over the back. Toriel put the girl down. 

"Oh! I...I made a pie. You were asleep for the whole day since last night I found you," informed Toriel. The girl choked and looked up at her, eyes wide. They welled with tears and she shot up. 

"A day? Oh my God! Oh my God! He's coming, he's going to kill me!" She cried, her chest heaving with panicked tears. The more panicked she became, the more she cursed and babbled in French. Toriel jumped up, ready to defend the girl who was suddenly so distressed.

"Oh child, child! Have no fear, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you again… not after I finally have you back. Who is this person you speak of?" She asked, her huge paw coming to stroke the girl's short, brown hair. Her panicked breaths began to subside as Toriel dragged her into her lap and stroked her head. She heard the whispering from earlier and the warmth, but this time, she didn't fall asleep. Only a strange calmness enveloped her. It was a disturbing kind of magic. The girl had been around magic, but this was nothing like the human's magic on the surface. Human magic could really only be harnessed through using souls and, it was considered a dark taboo to use it. Mostly because... it involved killing. This magic though, it was like nothing she had ever known. She was terrified of it. 

The girl didn't know how to explain her situation, and she didn't exactly want to either. Not to this woman. There was something so wrong about her. Were all monsters like this? She seemed so disconnected from reality. That distant look in her eyes. The smell of rot on her clothes. 

"Who would dare hurt such an innocent youth as you?" The question stung the girl. Not because it was intentionally malicious, but because...well, she wasn't _innocent._ She never had been. She had done many things. She had done _many things_ to survive and she was...nothing about her was innocent. Her soul was stained. _She_ was stained. She was dirty, unclean and...and so, so old. She felt as if she had lived for far too long. Far longer than she should've. 

"Damian. The... I...my... _boss_." Damian had been much more than a boss, but in the last stretch of their relationship, he had lorded over her much like one. The girl shuddered. Toriel blinked at her, a long frown falling on her face. 

"Were you a servant? Did you disobey your owner? No matter, I will protect you. I failed to protect my daughter and son, but I will protect you," she said firmly, that distant look returning to her. The girl pursed her lips. 

"You said you made a pie," she murmured, hoping to get the attention off of her past. She had calmed down. Damian wouldn't...he wouldn't come down here. Even if he had once told her that her soul was more valuable than her life, or any one else's life for that matter. There was no way he would come down here. He was too in love with himself, he'd never come down where the demons were. Everyone knew that if you went to hell, you stayed there. Everyone. Even Damian.

"Oh!" Toriel sniffed and her eyes widened. "Oh it's burning! I'm sorry, my child, oh my!" she cried as she shot up and bolted for the kitchen. Or at least what the girl assumed was a kitchen. 

The girl took this as her chance to explore. Escape. Or at least find some kind of exit. Some kind of escape that she could use for later. She couldn't stay here. The girl hesitantly stood up, making sure not to make the old floorboards creak. She turned away and slipped out from the room. Her body felt very heavy, but not in pain. Her ribs were bruised all over, but no longer broken. How had she healed in one day? The monsters' powers were extremely alien to her. 

The girl tip-toed her way through the small home. There was a staircase leading to some kind of basement and a hallway where the bedrooms were kept. The girl could barely breath in the dust. The wood smelled of rot. She looked up to see an analogue clock ticking away the seconds. It read 3:00. So it was three am. 

There was a mirror in the hallway and as the girl passed it, she started. She hadn't expected to see another body walking and...she turned to look at herself. Yes. It was her. Her big, brown eyes sunken in from exhaustion, her thin, willowy body almost ghost-like in the flowy, frilly nightgown. She almost looked nine years old… in this big house with big furniture and big clothes and beds. She was dwarfed and child-like. But she was the furthest thing from a child. Still...it was her. 

The girl combed a hand through her unkempt, bobbed hair. She needed to focus. Slowly, she turned away and continued exploring. 

She found the front door. It was locked with multiple locks and chains. 

"Child? Where are you?" Called Toriel. The girl gulped as she drew back a torn curtain. Outside were dozens of ruins. Temples, old fountains and dead trees. Crumbling homes, rusted gates. Completely abandoned. Or at least, she thought it was abandoned. Who knew what demons were lurking in those dark pools of shadows. 

"Child? CHILD!" Cried Toriel, her voice hitching with panic. The girl flinched and looked around. Toriel burst out of the living room and found the girl standing in the foyer. 

"Oh child, you scared me half to death! Never leave my sight again," she growled in warning. The girl's eyes widened and she quickly nodded. 

"Yes ma'am," she said. Toriel eased up and that strange smile spread across her lips. Oh how sharp those fangs were. The girl was promptly reminded of _Le petit Chaperon Rouge._ _Oh what big teeth you have._ **_All the better to eat you with._ **The girl shuddered at the thought. 

"Come to the dining hall with me. Then you can have some pie, little one," she crooned. The girl didn't even try to protest as Toriel scooped her into her arms. She had gotten accustomed to it. What she was still not used to was the strange yellow eyes that stared distantly at her. She felt sick at being called a child. It was starting to bring back painful memories. All her mistakes that had lead her right where she was standing at that moment. 

She needed to get out of here, but where would she go? Despite seeming a bit distant and a tad unhinged, the monster hadn't exactly been unkind. 

The pie was also... decent. Butterscotch. A hint of cinnamon. A little burnt. Well...really burnt. Toriel sat opposite of her, watching her eat. Not so much eating but forcing down the burnt crust and dry filling. But...she was in no mood to upset the monster. Her life depended on staying on this woman's goodwill, lest she decide to punish her little child's bad behavior. The girl shuddered at the thought. That would be awful. 

"Ok, off to bed with you," she crooned. The girl braced herself as she was dragged into the demoness's arms once more and carried to her bedroom. The monster tucked her into bed and stroked her hair with a desperate kind of touch. 

"Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, my child?" Asked Toriel. The girl shook her head. 

"No thanks...and...I can fall asleep on my own—I," she stammered. Toriel smiled at her and restrained from bringing her large, velvet paw to her forehead. 

"Very well...goodnight my child," she whispered. The girl nodded and waved her hand. Toriel made a move to leave before pressing her lips to the girl's forehead in a hard, wet kiss. The girl tensed, her teeth gritting at this strange motherly affection. It wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. _You'll get out. You always do._ Reminded her inner voice. The girl nodded when Toriel's back was turned and finally the door was closed. 

The girl counted the seconds in her head. _un, deux, trois, quatre..._ She could hear the analogue clock ticking away from the hall. When she heard a snore floating through the drafty home, the girl threw the covers off. It was time for action. It was time for her to get the hell out of the Ruins. She was _determined_. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello again, good to see you all so soon! I promise we're not going to stay in the ruins for forever. 
> 
> Please review! 
> 
> Next up; Our leading lady escapes the Ruins.


	3. Mercy

_Chapter Three: Mercy_

* * *

The home was drafty; especially with the fire reduced to smoldering embers. The girl's small feet crept along the floorboards. She needed to find better clothes and her shoes. She walked down the stairs, and winced as the boards creaked under her feet. The girl glanced around, her breath hitching in her throat. 

When nothing happened, she continued. On the lower floor she found a laundry room, a large pantry and a locked room that smelled rather awful. She entered the laundry room and began to rummage through the basket of clothes. Toriel owned an old washing and drying machine. It was something the girl was sure her grandmother had owned. 

Her boots were in the corner. She quickly stuck her feet in before trying to find her clothes. She couldn't find them at all. However, she did find a large black sweater. It was big enough to reach past her knees. It would have to do. She was in a hurry and didn't have the time to spare. 

Now that she was dressed in something much more comfortable and dignifying, the girl crept through the long hall, not daring to go back upstairs. As she passed by the locked door that smelled of rot, her chest began to heat up. A faint glow. Being around so much magic must've been affecting her soul. She felt drawn to this room. What was in there? 

Her hand rose on its own volition and began to jiggle the door. Locked. The girl looked around as her soul pulsed. She needed to see what was in that room. 

" _Qu'est-ce que tu fais ? Arrête,_ " she murmured to herself when it occurred to her that the longer she stood rooted to one spot, trying in vain to open a door, the better the chances of Toriel stopping her were. It took a bit of effort to pull herself away and once the door was out of sight, the glow of her soul faded as well and she once again felt normal. 

She found a heavy black door and it groaned as she pushed it open. It groaned loudly and the girl squeezed her eyes shut, expecting the worst. 

The worst came. 

"Child?" The distant voice of Toriel called. The girl's breath stilled. _No, no, no! I'm not staying here any longer,_ she thought frantically as she shoved the door open and dashed out. One day had been enough. Had been too long. The clatter of her boots along the cracked flagstones resounded through the air. The noise of her fleeing banged about in her ears. Hopefully she could outrun the monster, because that was the only way she'd get out of this now. 

"Child! Where do you think you're running off to!?" Toriel roared as she rushed down the stairs and out from the home.

The girl looked up. There was a large archway, and columns surrounded the walkway. Torches stood at the ready. There was another door. This time much bigger. _Jesus! I'm never gonna get out of here!_ Her body seemed to crash against the door as she tried to open it. By that time, the monster was upon her. The girl screamed and thrashed. She was stronger now that her ribs and arm weren't broken and cracked, but she was no match for the monster. 

"You are not leaving me again Chara!" screamed Toriel as she held the girl up by her arms. Her arms. Like she was some kind of toddler. The girl was taken aback by the name the demoness had called her. Chara? Was that the child that the monster was convinced she was? Why she was babying her? 

"My name isn't Chara!" She shouted. She kicked Toriel in the chest, despite the dull pain in her bruised ribs, and put her weight into her upper body. Toriel dropped her, and the girl rolled away with the grace of a dancer and pushed herself to her feet. Her body ached. 

"You're being very disobedient child! Go back to your room!" She ordered. The girl sneered and grabbed a torch from the wall. She brandished it like a weapon, despite it being extremely heavy. Her arms wavered, especially the one that had been cracked just a day before. Toriel noticed this and smirked. 

"Where are you going to go, child? Out there? Into the Underground?" First Toriel's chest glowed with white light and that light spread down her hands. The girl's eyes trailed up as she panted for air. 

"You've been very helpful, but I can't stay here Toriel...I'm not...I'm not Chara. Eventually I'll do something that's not right. I'm not your child. I'm a grown woman, and I can't live like...I can't…" she tried to explain. Toriel snarled and sent a blast of fire at her. The girl yelped and dove out of the way. 

"Oh, child, foolish, naive child...this will be the only place that you'll be safe. Out there...they'll kill you on sight! That's what he's done to our kingdom, child. That's why you must stay with me," she said. The girl shook her head and glanced up at the large door. A sigil was emblazoned on it. Wings, a circle and three triangles. She didn't know what it was, and she didn't have the time to care. Toriel shot another blast of flames at the girl's feet and she realized she was guiding her back to the home. Blocking her way. She growled and gripped the torch. 

With a shout, she jumped forward and swung the weapon. Toriel grabbed it in her hand and it burst into flames. The girl gasped and tried to stumble back. Toriel grabbed her by the throat. 

She threw a punch into the monster's abdomen and drove her elbow into the crook of her arm. Toriel pressed hard on the girl's trachea, and black dots began to fill her vision. She gasped for air and Toriel threw her to the ground. The girl rolled onto her elbows and sputtered and choked to regain her breath. She had been so close! She'd never get away from this crazed mother now. 

She was filled with pity. She knew how it felt to have lost. This woman was struggling to hold onto the idea of her children and wanted desperately to have them back. She understood. She wasn't innocent, after all. 

"Toriel…you know I'm not your child. The longer I stay with you, the more that would become obvious to you. Once you see it...what's going to keep me safe from you?" She asked. Toriel faltered, her eyes widening. In the small moment she was distracted, the girl paced around her until she had a clear shot to the door. 

"If you're not going to stay...then there's no use in keeping you alive," she murmured, her yellow eyes narrowing with cold malice. The girl choked and fell to the ground as another blast of flames hurled towards her. 

"I'll be doing you a favor girl, just accept it. You're like me. What do you even have to live for?" She snarled as she advanced on the girl. She rolled away and dodged Toriel's fist. Two punches were landed to Toriel's side as the girl swooped below her. 

"You're strong, I'll give you that. You know I don't want to hurt you child, I really don't, but what other choice do I have? Let the others beyond these doors torture you? At least this will be quick," she growled. The girl kicked the crook of Toriel's knee, bringing the monster down long enough for her to jump onto her back and wrap her arms around her neck. Toriel grabbed the girls arms and fire hissed against the sweater. The girl screamed as her skin burnt. She couldn't let go. She kneed Toriel's back furiously, before dropping. Her arms were red, raw and boiling and she screamed. It was a second degree burn and her skin was already starting to bubble and blister. 

Tears sprung in her eyes. She was terrified. She just wanted to give up. Toriel was right after all, what _did_ she have to live for? She had been left behind, she had turned to sins so revolting to get by, she had lost, she had known abuse and...death did seem like a friendly notion. As Toriel approached her, however, she was reminded of her vow to herself not to let others decide her fate for her. Her life was in her hands and with that knowledge, she was filled with determination. Her soul glowed a soft red and she pushed herself to her feet, her arms still in pain. 

She didn't want to hurt this woman though. She'd hurt a lot of people, but this demoness had felt pain just like her, and she'd be damned if she didn't listen to that compassion in her heart. Besides, now that Damian was finally out of her life...she had the choice. She'd choose mercy. 

"You...you don't have to do this, Toriel. You can't...you can't change your past, but you can change your...your future. Both of us can and it—well it starts with what we—we do here," she stammered, trying to talk through the pain sizzling in her arms. Toriel blinked away tears as the girl spoke to her. 

"Shut your horrid mouth, you terrible, little girl!" She shrieked. The girl dodged the flames and hid behind a column. Toriel reached for her, fire spitting at the girl as she raced away. She slammed against the door. She grappled with the handle and tried to pull with all her might. Toriel began to sob and crumble to the ground. The girl turned around hesitantly.

"Don't leave me like this! I can't be alone anymore… I just want them back...I lost everything," she sobbed. The girl swallowed and forced down her resolve. Some womanly connection must've been forged, and she knew she couldn't just leave her like this. 

"I know how you feel…" she murmured as she hesitantly approached the demoness. She looked so broken. That distant look had finally shattered and had given way to an ocean of tears. 

"I lost _everything_ , child. My children, my kingdom, my husband...and it's my fault. I just watched as everything crumbled around me. It's my fault, it's not the humans' or...or Chara's fault. Asgore is wrong about that. It's just mine. I deserve my exile." The girl swallowed and held out her hand. Leo had told her that her kindness would get her killed in the world they lived in. She remembered that day vividly. It had gotten her into a lot of trouble. 

"You can't blame yourself...or stand idly by and keep living in anger at yourself. You have to move on eventually, trust me. I know," she said. Toriel looked up at her, her eyes welled. 

"I don't know if I'm strong enough. I'm a coward," she choked. The girl kneeled down and took Toriel's hands. 

"Maybe you are right now. You still need to heal…but there comes a time when you have to keep moving," she said. The girl was surprised by her own words. Toriel looked down at the girl's small hands. 

"Is that why you're leaving? Or are you running from something, just like me?" She asked. The girl frowned. 

"Well—"

"No matter. You have proven yourself strong, and...maybe a little something more. You are so like Chara…" she said. The girl smiled softly and rubbed away the tears on Toriel's eyes. 

"You have been very kind to me Toriel. I'm sorry I have to leave you," she said. Toriel smiled softly and took her hand. 

"No, you're right to leave. You're not my child, and it would be wrong to keep you here and dress you up like a doll. I think...I think you'll do wonderful things for the Underground…" she said softly. The girl breathed heavily. She didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but it sounded like a lot of work. The girl just wanted to be safe. She wanted to be in control of her life—for once. 

"Come, child. I'll pack you a bag...I would make you some tea but...I'm not much use in that department." The two women laughed together. The girl felt a small glimmer of happiness. This woman helped her, and sure, she had a streak of unrest in her. There had been something broken in her, but she had been kind to her. She had helped her. The girl would be ever grateful. 

⁂

The girl found herself back in that corridor, with the torches and columns and the big door. Toriel had wrapped her arms in bandages. She had also apologized. When Toriel discovered the girl was polylingual, they conversed in French and English. The girl found that the demoness was quite pleasant to be around now that the delusion had been shattered. 

"Thank you, child. Thank you for your kindness...it's been years since anyone has been that...good. Merciful. You be careful out there, my husband has made our kingdom an awful place...he doesn't deserve your mercy," she said with a sigh. The girl looked up at Toriel. She now had a sack filled with some of Toriel's sweaters. 

Toriel pulled open the door and smiled softly. She was a woman who just wanted to love someone. The girl's heart went out to her. It took her by surprise when Toriel pulled her into a hug. 

"Do me a favor child...if you see my husband, if you meet Asgore...do the right thing," she whispered. The girl frowned at this. She didn't know what was going to happen to her. She doubted this woman's husband would have anything to do with that. As long as she was in charge of her life, she was content. As long as Damian was far, far away from her, she was happy. 

" _J'espère te revoir, Toriel_ ," she said softly. Toriel smiled and stroked her hair. 

" _Sois prudent là-bas_ ," she said as the girl made her way out from the door.

" _Je t'écrirai une lettre_ ," she said. Toriel chuckled and waved goodbye to her. The girl also gave a curt nod before she slipped into the darkness and the door closed behind her. She was alone again. 

A chill crept onto her and her lip trembled. There was a patch of golden flowers and then just beyond it...a steep staircase descending into earth. Into hell. 

With a resolved sigh, she stepped forward. A gasp escaped her as a flower rose from the grass. That flower that had helped her. 

"She didn't kill you...I was so...I was so worried you were doomed. And you…" he murmured. The girl looked down at the flower. He had been worried about her? Were these monsters really the demons she had heard about? 

"She wasn't so bad...she thought I was her daughter. Chara, that was her name," said the girl. She didn't know why she was talking to this flower, but she didn't mind the company. Being alone was terrifying. The flower froze and studied her. 

"I suppose you… you do look a lot like her. Toriel didn't kill you… you must be very special," he said softly. The girl tilted her head. 

"She seems to think so too. I just did what I do best, flower. I survived… besides, what has that got to do with you?" She asked. The flower looked up at her. 

"I don't know… but I'll say that when I saw you, I felt hope, and now that you're here, not dead by Toriel's hands… I know that you're exactly what the Underground has been needing all these years. Let me come with you," he said, and she couldn't help but still feel a bit disturbed at the way his mouth moved. The girl winced at the implication that she would do great things. She was by no means destined for anything more than survival. 

"I don't even know who you are," she said. The flower's beady little eyes widened. He looked embarrassed. 

"How rude of me, I never introduced myself. My name is…" he paused, his eyes searching for the answer, before they landed on it, "Flowey… Flowey the flower." She smiled softly. _Of course._ She thought. 

"Well in that case, _Flowey_ , my name is Frisk...um, Frisk the Human," she said; and like that, we have this girl's name. Frisk. 

Flowey smiled at her. 

"Well… it's good to be acquainted with you, Frisk… now, can I join you?" He asked. Frisk studied him. He had helped her first, he had unbinded her from the ropes. It couldn't hurt to have someone to accompany her. She remembered how much his little bullets had stung. It would be good to have someone with that kind of magic on her side. 

"I suppose I could use the help…of course, thank you," she said. She really could use the help. She wasn't an idiot, and Frisk didn't like being alone. She really didn't. She had been alone for too long and… it was just so awful. She really did need the company. Flowey didn't seem so bad. 

She watched as he climbed out from the ground. A part of her was still revolted by his movements, but she found she was getting used to him now. He settled on her shoulder, his roots and leaves wrapped around her arm. He made sure to avoid the bandages and she silently thanked him. 

With that...Frisk and Flowey descended down those dark stairs and into the Underworld. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, Frisk is finally out of the ruins! Next up, Frisk comes face to face with a certain someone. 
> 
> Comments are always welcome! Xoxo


	4. Descent

Chapter Four: Descent 

* * *

Frisk was exhausted. There was no more to it. Just pure and honest exhaustion. She wanted to pass out. With each stair she descended down, she almost felt the world crumble beneath her. 

Flowey was helpful in that regard. He chatted her ear off. It was almost unbearable. He pointed out things she had never would've seen on her own. He seemed to know a lot about the ruins. He said that the stairs were called The Descension. He also said each step was engraved with a proverb, but Frisk didn't want to try and read them. She couldn't anyway. It was in another language, something like Latin but not. Flowey didn't know it, so Frisk accepted the fact that she wouldn't either. 

"Tell me about yourself, Frisk," goaded Flowey as huge icicles began to hang around them. Frisk glanced at him. What exactly did he want to know? 

"Well...I'm twenty-three...um my full name is Frisk Valeska... well, I mean...it used to be, but, um, forget it, my _maiden_ name is um, De La Noir. So, Frisk De La Noir. Oh, I was raised in France, and learned English and French, and then I moved to Sicily...I’m not so well versed in Italian. Then my husband moved us to the states and...Um...I don't know, what exactly do you want to know about me?" She asked. Flowey studied her. It was very dark, but the blackness was slowly being cut through with a shimmery blue glimmer. 

"You're bilingual?” he asked. Frisk nodded and chuckled softly. Flowey could tell she didn’t want to talk more on the subject though. “What's your favorite color?" He asked. Frisk smiled. That was a good place to start. 

"Blue...well...purple. Well," she laughed. "I guess it's not that simple," she said. Flowey giggled. 

"Sure it is," he said. Frisk smiled sleepily. Her arms stung against the bandages. She longed to tear them off and scratch furiously at her burns but that was a bad idea. Toriel had packed extra bandages and some medication for her. Hopefully that would be enough. She'd miss Toriel. Being surrounded by men got tiresome. 

"I like purple. It's a mix of blue and red, I like those colors too. Although...I've seen enough red in my life. Um, what about you?" She asked. Flowey smiled at her. She was getting used to the way his mouth contorted. Frisk found you could get used to anything. 

"I like purple too," he said. They smiled at each other. 

"It's a good color," said Frisk with a simple shrug. It was starting to get cold and goosebumps rose on her bare legs. The big sweater-like dress didn't reach her calves and they were starting to feel the cold. _Wow it's really getting cold._ It wasn't long before it started to seep into her sweater. 

Then she slipped. Frisk gasped and Flowey yelped. She steadied herself on a rod iron railing, her knees buckled as she regained her balance. The stairs were iced over. She had not expected the Underworld to be icy. If anything, she had expected it to get hotter. Then light hit her eyes. 

Blue light. It shimmered like diamonds. They found themselves in a blue, ice room. Up above was a rose window, and icy columns. And then, just in front of her, another huge black door with that sigil engraved in it. Flowey seemed to see where Frisk's eyes were drawn. 

"It's a Delta Rune...it's the symbol of the Underground it's...the wings and circle signify the Angel and...it's its own prophecy as much as it is a symbol," he said cryptically. Frisk smiled softly up at the Delta Rune. She certainly hoped she wouldn't feel like a child in the Underworld. She was already a petite woman, she didn't need to be further dwarfed. 

She realized that it must've been dawn, if light was soaking the room. Frisk rubbed her eyes. She was so tired. She wished she had stayed asleep, or at least stayed with Toriel for another day. Maybe counseling her. Maybe receiving healing for herself. No, that wouldn't have worked. 

With a resolved sigh, Frisk went to the door and grabbed the handle. Flowey's roots stretched out and gripped the handle as well and, together, they pulled. The door slid in, grating harshly against the ground. It was as if the door hadn't been opened in years. It took every last bit of strength Frisk had. 

Frisk crumbled once the door opened a sliver big enough she could squeeze through. She didn't have the energy to open it all the way. 

"How is it...light outside? Isn't...aren't we underground?" She asked. Flowey glanced at her. 

"Don't look at me, I don't know anything about it," he said. Frisk shot him a confused look. 

"I thought you knew everything about this place?" She mused as she slipped past the door. She looked around. The sunrise, or whatever the light was called, was a soft red and golden glow. And there was snow. The light reflected off of it like glass. Giant pine trees littered the ground. It was a beautiful white forest. Her breath was stolen. 

"I only know the history, not the scientific stuff. I'm not a tour guide," he said. Frisk rolled her eyes playfully. 

"I never said you were. Just forget it, it's beautiful," she said. Flowey smiled softly as they began to walk out into the snow. Frisk shivered slightly and crossed her arms. It was cold. Her breath came out in foggy puffs. 

There was a small trail leading through the woods and she followed it. 

"What's the plan?" Asked Flowey. Frisk looked around. She was out of her element. She wasn't a girl scout by any means, she knew nothing about the wilderness. A new fear filled her. 

"I suppose we'll...sleep. We'll find a place to sleep. Somewhere safe," she said. Flowey looked at her skeptically. 

"Like where? Frisk, we need to be careful." She knew that. Frisk shrugged and continued to walk. It didn't get any lighter than that sunrise. 

They explored the wintery woods, until Frisk found a hollowed out tree. She nestled inside and wrapped herself in some sweaters from her bag. The cold was biting. The tree offered a sort of cozy sanctuary from the winter however. She quickly passed out and fell into a dreamless sleep. God knew she needed it. 

Flowey went to scout ahead, he let her sleep. He knew she needed to keep up her strength, especially against the people he knew they'd come across on this path. The dogs were active today, Flowey was glad that Frisk was nestled safe in a tree. He spent that day creating false tracks so the dogs wouldn't catch onto Frisk's scent. When things had calmed down and the light was dimming, Flowey returned to the hollow tree where she slept. She looked so peaceful...

"Frisk...Frisk, it's getting late, you need to wake up. They should be home now," murmured Flowey as he shook the small girl awake. Frisk groaned groggily and turned away. She was by no means comfortable, but that didn't mean she wasn't a stubborn ass when it came to sleep. _Who are they?_ She wondered to herself. Flowey seemed worried about something. 

"Frisk… hurry, just because the sentries are gone doesn't mean that other monsters don't lurk these woods at night. Let's go," he urged. Finally, Frisk's lashes fluttered open and she rose from her pile of sweaters. 

" _Bon..."_ she grumbled sleepily, wiping her eyes from their burning exhaustion. Flowey waited impatiently for her to gather her things. Once she was done, he quickly crawled back onto her shoulder and she hoisted herself out of the trunk. Had she slept the entire day away? 

The light began to fade, and those bright reds and golds scattered through the snow and ice. Once again, Frisk's breath was taken away. It really was beautiful down here. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so stunned by nature's majesty. Then, like that, the light blinked out and she was submerged into darkness. Or at least partial darkness. A cold, pale light. Must've been some substitute for a moon. 

The ice looked like diamonds in the "moonlight" and she found herself captivated. 

"This way, I know a way around the trap," whispered Flowey. Frisk didn't know what he meant, she was too enraptured by the beauty of the wood. They came across a large pathway forged through the snow. 

"Stay off the road," whispered Flowey sharply. Frisk obeyed and followed the road at a distance. It was then she began to sense an eeriness. She couldn't put her finger on it, but her fear came rushing back. The cold was harsh. It was seeping into her through her sweater and as the wind began to pick up, her teeth began to chatter as her body tensed and shivered. It began to snow and the wind kicked it up, driving the ice into her face. In the distance, she thought she heard a wolf howl.

"Oh G-g-God Flowey, w-where are we g-g-going?" She chattered as she tried to control her shivers. The snow blinded her. Flowey was also starting to freeze. 

"I c-can't see, m-maybe we should find shelter. We d-don't want to g-get caught out here," he warned. She nodded along. There that feeling was again. Something definitely wasn't right. Through the bullets of ice, she thought she saw a shadow shifting behind the trees and she was growing scared. Scared and cold. Not a very desirable situation. 

Frisk found a small, abandoned den in the roots of a tree. She was small enough to fit in. It seemed like everything in the Underworld was twice the size of their surface counterparts. It wasn't any warmer, but it offered shelter from the snow. Frisk shivered violently, her bare legs were extremely frozen. Her bronze skin was burning with how cold it was. 

"Flowey...I think we're being followed," she whispered through clenched teeth. Flowey looked around. Frisk strained to see into the woods. She thought she saw two, tiny, red lights glaring through the shadows and she gasped. It was gone the moment she saw them. The terror she first felt when she arrived in the Underground resurfaced with a vengeance. Now her body shook with both cold and fear. 

Fortunately for them, the wind died down. The snow fell peacefully around them and Frisk took the opportunity to move. 

She crawled out from behind the cover of the tree roots and looked around. 

"Where to, Flowey?" She asked, as they trudged through the billows of snow. Snowflakes began to collect in her hair, eyelashes and sweater. In another situation she might've been ecstatic. But she knew just how much danger she was in. And she knew someone was following them. Or something. She had barely beaten Toriel. In fact, she really hadn't; Toriel had just been broken enough to let her go. She wasn't sure if another monster would be so merciful. The warnings of both Toriel and Flowey were ringing in her head. 

"Just down here. We'll have to be careful though. The sentries have traps everywhere and if we get caught it's game over," he said. Up ahead she saw a tall barbwire fence. As she approached it, she noticed it buzzed with a hum of electricity. On the other side of the fence were spike strips; the kinds that police would put along the road to stop getaway drivers. In the distance loomed a building that had the semblance of a border patrol checkpoint that was also connected to a shorter fence. 

Flowey told her to get away from the fence. It was a part of the sentries' traps, whatever that was supposed to mean. No one seemed to be here though. She knew, that despite what _seemed_ to be, there was definitely another presence, lurking somewhere. She saw a shadow disappear from view every other moment. Was she going insane? 

"There's a spot in the fence that's not electrocuted, it's broken. We can slip under it and then hop over the spikes. Sound good?" Asked Flowey. Frisk shivered from the cold. Her eyes were starting to freeze shut, and her nose and cheeks were pinched red. She nodded her agreement and trailed along the fence. 

She heard footsteps crunch in the snow, they weren't hers either. She felt an icy dread grow in her stomach and she looked around. Nothing. Her lip trembled and she wiped her face. 

"Flowey, someone is following us," she whispered again. She knew when someone was following her. She had learned at an early age what to look for, and what gut feelings to listen to. Flowey knew those same instincts. He looked around. 

"Just keep moving…" he said. Frisk was terrified, cold and hungry. Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in two days she realized. Besides choking down burnt pie. Oh God, she was starving! 

"There it is!" Whispered Flowey. Frisk smiled and jogged to the broken part of the electric fence. Flowey was right, the buzzing of electricity was not present. The crunch in the snow stopped and Frisk felt her heart plummet when she saw a large shadow fall over her. Flowey's beady eyes widened. 

_Tap… tap… tap…_

Frisk's body grew rigid when the shadow behind her tapped her shoulder. Flowey wheezed, and much to her surprise, fainted from his own terror. Her body wouldn't move despite her mind screaming at her to run. The demon behind her gave a dark chuckle that shook her soul. 

"Well… isn't this just _precious_." Frisk's heart thundered in her body and she trembled when the voice spoke. It was a man's voice, and it was deep, gravelly, with a slight hint of a Boston accent. It was bone chilling. 

"Ya look a little lost, sweetheart," purred the voice. _Run!_ She heeded the voice and darted forward towards the fence; she had to get away! 

Before she could get far, an icy stillness filled her body. She looked down to see her soul was glowing again...but this time, it was blue and ice cold instead of warm and red. A new terror shot through her and she screamed. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. She had escaped one monster only to be caught in the grip of another! She couldn't move! Her breaths came out heavy and fast. What was he doing to her soul? She tried to kick or strike him with her fist, but her body wouldn't move at all. Fighting was useless. 

The monster behind her chuckled darkly. He was enjoying this, and she panicked. This monster sounded like all the men from the surface who she had worked for, who had tortured her. Her soul was caught by magic and she couldn't move! 

The demon circled her like a vulture, and she got a good look at him. She wished she hadn't. He was even more terrifying than Toriel. He was a very large skeleton. He wasn't tall like Toriel, but he had a girth to him that skeletons shouldn't have had. One of his dark, foreboding eye sockets was lit by a flare of red fire, and she was sure that now she had finally died. She had died and up until this point it had been one big fever dream. Now she was awake, and staring death in the face. And Death was grinning ear to ear with jagged fangs that could rip her apart if he so dared. 

"Oh Papyrus is gonna love this…" he murmured to himself as he studied her with awe. She whimpered and tried to move, but her feet wouldn't leave the ground. He chuckled and shushed her, putting a dry, bony finger to her lips. _God, get the hell away from me._ She thought bitterly. She hated feeling powerless. This monster seemed to drink up her fear. The pale moonlight caught the edge of a golden fang and it glittered in her eyes. 

"What's the matta' dollface? Ya look a little nervous...in fact I'd say you're a bit chilled to the bone. _Heh…"_ it was a joke. Frisk didn't find it funny though. She stared up at him with horror written all over her face. He was laughing though, low and quiet, as if the stupid little joke he had told was a funny little secret between them. If she wasn't so scared, she'd probably smack him across the face. In fact, she found she couldn't really do much of anything. And she was far too terrified to talk. 

When it was clear she wasn't amused, the skeleton sighed dramatically and reached out at her. He put a hand on her shoulder; she tensed at his touch.

"I guess everyone's a critic, huh doll?" She didn't give him the pleasure of answering him. Frisk had been around many unpleasant men in her life, and this skeleton wasn't anything new, but he was a demon; and this particular demon was terrifying. Mostly because she didn't know what he was trying to do. Was he going to kill her? 

He seemed to read the question on her face and his grin grew wider if that was even possible. 

"Not yet...I'll let the boss decide what we're gonna do with _you_ , sweetie," he purred. Her eyes widened as his hand began to tighten around her shoulder blade. She realized what he was about to do and she gasped. 

She tried to struggle, but his thumb dug into a pressure point in her collarbone. She cried as he brought her to her knees and he laughed. The skeleton then shushed her like a parent shushing a child. She looked up, her eyes welling with precious tears. He grabbed her throat, and Frisk's big, brown eyes bulged as he began to choke her. He was going to kill her! He was killing her and she couldn't do anything about it. She cried and choked and then...everything faded to black. 

⁂

The skeleton stood over the human, who was now knocked out cold in the snow. She was so small. Were all humans so fucking pathetic? He chuckled and heaved her out from the snow. She was light too. _Huh._

He swung her over his shoulder and ran a dry, bony hand along her exposed thigh. Not exactly the right clothes for this weather. He snickered, grabbed her pack from the ground and made his way to the gate. Just up ahead was his station. He could get her ready and call Papyrus. Oh Papyrus was going to be so happy. He'd probably let him come back home now that he had this prize. The two brothers had a falling out that day and Papyrus was pissed. 

"This ought to cheer him up," he hummed to himself as he lumbered up the steps of his sentry station. Once inside, he dropped the human in the corner and flicked the lights on. The fluorescents slowly flickered on. With a groan, the skeleton made his way to the landline and dialed home. 

It didn't ring but once before his brother picked up and screamed at the skeleton. 

"Sans! It is ten-thirty! Why in the world do you think you have the right to call me!? Don't think for a second I've forgiven you for that little stunt you pulled," barked Papyrus. Sans held the phone away from his skull and growled. With a scream that loud, who needed phones? 

"Listen, Paps, about the false alarm—" 

"I don't want to hear it. I'm going to hang up on you now. Maybe next time you call you'll have a proper reason for bothering me!" Sans's eye sockets widened a bit and he groaned. 

"Wait, wait, wait! There's a reason I called… I have a human. In my station, right now," he said. There was a pause over the phone. 

"Don't you dare lie to me, Sans. I'm hanging up—"

"I'm not lying! If we had service out here I'd send a picture, but you're gonna have to trust me boss," he said. Papyrus let out a bone chilling laugh. 

"Trust you!? Why the hell would I do that? You're good for nothing Sans. If you have a human with you, which you don't, bring it back home as proof. If not, well you can just sleep at your station! I'm tired of you humiliating me!" Screeched Papyrus. The line went dead and Sans imagined Papyrus slamming their home phone down like the petty asshole he was. Sans rolled his red eyelights and sighed. 

"Whelp, you heard the boss," he grumbled. He should've expected that reaction. That afternoon, Sans had gotten bored waiting at the checkpoint and sounded the alarm that he had seen a human. It got Papyrus all riled up and he had sent the dogs and everything. Sans had been quite amused as the dogs combed the woods. Papyrus caught on pretty quick that Sans was filled with shit and the two got into a huge argument. This would change that. 

Sans rummaged through the mini fridge. He grabbed a bottle of bargain brand beer he kept on hand. Tasted like piss but he never drank for the _exquisite_ flavor. With a roll of his eye lights, he drank it as he pulled out a bundle of nylon chord and a silk, black sack. 

Papyrus was going to flip his shit when he saw the human. A shiver of excitement went down Sans's spine as he meandered over to her. 

"You're my one way ticket outta the dog house. Now be still," he said with a small laugh. She didn't really have another option, considering she was unconscious. He noticed the flower sitting on her shoulder and he scowled. The stupid weed began to stir and Sans sighed. He shoved the sack over the girl's head, keeping the flower shut inside before the weed could do anything once he inevitably awoke. 

When the woman's ankles and wrists were tightly tied together, Sans whistled in satisfaction and downed the rest of the bottle. With a loud sigh, he tossed it into the trash can and wiped his hands on his pants.

He heaved the woman onto his shoulder once more. God, she was so small. 

The red eyelights in his eyes glowed a bit fiercer as he summoned his energy to teleport. The plumes of red smoke swirled around them until both Sans and the human were covered, and when the smoke cleared, the sentry station was empty.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Out of the frying pan and into the fire; The skeletons have entered the chat. 
> 
> Next up: The brothers get to know their prisoner. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this so far! Please don't be shy, I love reading your feedback! Don't forget to comment and give kudos.


	5. Skeletons

Chapter Five: Skeletons

* * *

"By God Sans! You actually caught a human! I can't...this completely tips the odds in our favor! Think about the possibilities brother!" Sans grinned as he stared at the unconscious human slouched in the corner of the basement. It was a makeshift prison for now. 

"So do you forgive me?" Asked Sans with a cheeky smirk. Papyrus narrowed his eyes and grunted. 

"This makes up for your foolishness," he said. Sans watched as his taller but younger brother approached the human and studied her. 

"She is quite small. Are all humans this tiny?" He asked. Sans shrugged. 

"The hell if I know, boss. Look, I'm _bone tired_ —" Papyrus groaned at the pun, "—we'll deal with her in the mornin', how does that sound?" suggested Sans. Papyrus paused as he collected his thoughts before he grinned wickedly. 

"That will certainly give me enough time to sleep on my plans for the tiny human," he said. Before another decision could be made, a small moan disrupted them. Sans glanced down at the human and arched a brow bone. Her legs shifted and the two skeletons watched as her body began to stir. She was awake. _Great._ Thought Sans bitterly. The idea of getting some shut eye was now a fantasy. Papyrus would keep them here all night. It's not like he would fall asleep anyway. 

"Oh, I will go outside. You know how important introductions are to me Sans. Get the human ready to meet me," hissed Papyrus in a comically loud whispering voice. Sans rolled his eyes. 

"Right," he grunted. The human groaned again, and Papyrus was out the door. Sans sighed and walked in a lazy line to the human before untying the bag and jerking it off of her face. The bruises of his fingers on her neck were bright red and a small shiver of pride pricked him. She was a lovely creature, he couldn't deny that.

Her eyes squeezed shut in the bright light of the basement. The flower on her shoulder rose like a Cobra, spitting and growling. Sans grunted, the noise snapping him back to reality. 

"What's up, weed?" He growled. The flower snarled at him. 

"Get away from us! Let us go! Frisk didn't—" he immediately shut up when he realized he had given away the human's name. Sans chuckled. 

"Frisk, huh?" Grunted Sans, his eyelights falling over the human before him. _Frisk's_ big brown eyes fluttered open and she glared up at him. She really was a cute little thing, and Frisk was quite a cute little name. Sans grinned down at her. 

"How was the nap, sleepy head?" He asked. She grit her teeth and looked away from him. She was trying to control her breathing. Sans could feel her heart thud from where he was squatting. The flower rose to her defense once more. 

"Leave her alone," he snarled. Frisk closed her eyes as Sans chuckled at the little weed. 

"Flowey," she whispered. Sans's eyes sparked at the sound of her voice. It was the first time she had said something. Flowey looked down at her, his beady eyes widening. 

"What?" He asked in bewilderment. Sans took the opportunity to cut in. 

"Maybe you should heed your human's example and shut the fuck up before I make ya, weed," he snapped. The flower was getting on his nerves. Frisk looked up at Sans and shuffled away from him, her back pressed against the wall. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was before she looked back up at him again. 

Finally, she spoke. 

"What...what are you going to do to me?" She murmured, her voice barely audible. It sounded like she hadn't said a single word in years. Sans chuckled darkly and stood up. Before he could say anything, Papyrus burst through the door and swept down the basement stairs. 

"Sans won't be doing _anything_ to you!" Snarled the tall skeleton. Frisk paled at the sight of him. If she thought _Sans_ was bad, this new skeleton was about ten times more terrifying. He was _tall_ . Taller than Toriel had been. Tall and thin and _sharp_ too. He must've stood at around seven feet tall! She whimpered at the sight and her body trembled. 

"Sans, leave us alone. I need to have word alone with _my_ human," he said. Sans stared down at Frisk, his ever present grin faltering only slightly. He looked up at his brother and growled under his breath before he loped up the stairs. 

So she was in a basement. Great. 

The tall skeleton loomed over her as they waited for Sans to leave. With him gone, Frisk felt she could breathe again. Of course, there was a new terror in the room with her. Frisk didn't think she'd ever get used to the horror of demons. 

Once they were alone together, the tall skeleton cleared his throat with a raspy croak before he stepped towards her. 

"This is a momentous occasion...let me introduce myself to you, tiny human, you may call me The Great and Terrible Papyrus. I am lieutenant of his majesty's royal guard. You are _my_ prisoner. Your soul is _mine._ Mine to do with what I see fit. Your life is at my mercy. Do you understand, Human?" He asked, his booming voice filling the room. He was not only tall and terrifying, but also _loud._ Flowey hid behind her head. Frisk stared wide eyed up at him, her heart thundering in her ears. 

"Well? I do not have all night, tiny Human. You best give me an answer!" He barked. Frisk's breath hitched and she nodded quickly. 

"Yes...I—I understand," she whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes. Papyrus cocked his head as she began to cry. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, annoyance filling him. Flowey growled and Frisk shook her head. She wiped her tears roughly against her shoulder. She didn't know how she'd get out of this, but once more she was filled with the determination to stay alive. She'd do anything it took to get on this skeleton's good side if it meant he wouldn't kill her. At least until she had found another way to escape her situation. She couldn't fight them like she had fought Toriel, they had magic that she stood no chance against… but she could use her wits… 

"I'm sorry Mr. Papyrus, I just... you're…" her eyes lit up. Clearly he was an arrogant person. She could stroke his ego. She was very good at doing that. 

"You're just like the legends spoke about! Strong, terrible and...dashing," she said through broken sobs. Papyrus's eyes widened. 

"I...I see the human is a bit overwhelmed by my greatness!" He blushed a bit at the idea. Frisk nodded frantically and smiled the most charming smile she could muster. 

"I am, I _am_ overwhelmed by your greatness. You are the most...um, _amazing_ person I've ever met, the songs they sing about you don't do you justice!" She said. Flowey glanced at her, a grimace growing on his face as he watched her work her charms. Papyrus smiled at her, before he scowled and waved away her words. 

"No matter! This changes nothing, I will not be bought by flattery! Even if you are incredibly flattering," he said. Frisk plastered a sweet smile on her face to hide her growing panic. 

"She's very hungry! She hasn't eaten, if you want her... _soul_ to be in good condition, you ought to feed her," snapped Flowey. Papyrus's eye sockets widened and he nodded curtly. 

"Very well. But, _human,_ you will eat what I give you, understand?" He snapped. Frisk nodded and smiled weakly at him. Papyrus's gaze lingered curiously on her, before he trudged up the stairs. 

When she was left alone, Frisk sighed and let herself fall back against the wall, her tears sliding down her cheeks and staining them red. A hopelessness filled her soul. She had escaped Damian, and Toriel...only to be taken hostage by two terrifying skeletons. Could she ever catch a break? 

"What am I going to do?" She moaned. Flowey glanced at her, a hard frown falling on his face. He hadn't known her for long, but it killed him to see her look so defeated. She had a way of wrapping people around her little finger, and she definitely had snagged his loyalty. 

"What humans do best, Frisk...stay determined," he said. Frisk looked at him and smiled softly. That was all she could do anymore. Her determination is what saved her from many a trauma, it would save her now. She just had to bide her time. 

  
  


⁂

Frisk woke up, her hands and arms ached. She finally took the time to look around. The basement was small and cluttered, her pack was nowhere to be found. There was a table in the corner, and several tools hanging up on racks. Pliers, saws, axes, screws, screw drivers. She began to recall the events of that night. After Papyrus had given her a stern talking to, he got her dinner. A glass of water and a leftover sandwich. She ate ravenously, and still needed more. He didn't give her more. 

Sans didn't come back down, and she was grateful for that. She found his presence revolting, and she feared what he'd do to her every second he was around her. 

Her ankles and wrists were still bound. They were uncomfortably tight, but at least her hands weren't behind her back like they were when Leo was ordered to kill her. She'd have to untie herself first if she was even going to think about escaping. All her life had been running. She was tired of running. She ran from France, she ran from Italy, she ran from Damian...she paid the price for that last one. Maybe she should stop running. Maybe she should just accept her fate. Again, her soul pulsed with an unresolved determination. No. She'd make her fate. Not the men in her life. 

"Flowey...are you awake?" She asked softly. The flower groaned and shifted. He was stuck to her like a lichen to rock. She smiled at that thought. It was so rare to find kind people. 

"I'm getting there," he murmured. Frisk nodded knowingly and studied the knots at her hands. She began to work at loosening them with her teeth. 

She froze when the door creaked open and heavy footsteps fell on the stairs. Her breath hitched when she saw Sans come into view. She avoided his gaze, her teeth clenched as she tried to think of her next course of action. Would flattery work on him too? 

He stepped off the stairs and leaned against the wall. Frisk glanced up to find him watching her with curiosity. That ever present grin on his face chilled her and she looked away again. Monsters were so strange and horrible. What was he doing? She found that she too was dragged into the strange and wary staring contest, and she took the time to study him. His skull was cracked on one side, and she could see smaller nicks and cracks along his skull that marked lots of fights from the past. He wore a huge, dark bomber jacket with a fluffy, white hood. There was an insignia imprinted on the shoulder pad, it was a Delta Rune, she realized. He wore black jogging pants, and a striking red shirt underneath. His grin seemed to grow wider when he realized she was studying him just like he was studying her. Frisk wondered what he was thinking...what he was planning. Why he was in there. The silence was deafening and Frisk hated every moment his eyes lingered on her. She couldn't just sit there. Finally, she spoke up.

"What do you want?" she asked quietly, her voice betraying the strength she tried to conjure. Sans finally broke his stare and looked down at a piece of lint on his jacket. He flicked it off and sniffed. 

“Well, boss sent me home early to come check up on you...he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, can you believe that? Makes me wonder what you said to him,” he said darkly. Frisk narrowed her eyes. Was that it? 

Flowey was awake, but he didn’t move at all. Frisk could tell that this particular skeleton terrified him just as much as he terrified her. She looked back up at Sans. She couldn’t seem to figure him out like she could Papyrus or Leo or even Damian. Those were men that wore their hearts on their sleeves. It was hard to read Sans though, he didn’t express much, and it wasn’t clear what he wanted or what he was thinking. 

"I—"

"—I don't know what you said to him, but get this through your head, my brother means a lot to me, but the guy can be an idiot when it comes to his ego. Whatever you said to him," he began to approach her, and her breath stilled. She watched as his eye sockets went _black_. It chilled her, and she found herself sucked in like his eyes were black holes. 

" **It's not gonna work on me** ," he said, his voice going cold. All the warmth in the room was sucked away, and an icy fear crawled up her spine. Her eyes began to well and she nodded slowly. 

"Of course…" she whispered. Flowey shivered uncontrollably and he looked away. A shamed frown formed on the little flower's face. Sans relaxed and grinned down at her; his red eye lights flickered back on. He chuckled softly and kicked a pebble as he feigned disinterest. 

"But whateva' right? Heh...so, you comfortable?" He asked. Frisk trembled and looked down at the tight bindings at her wrists. No. She definitely wasn't. Especially not now that Sans was looming over her like death itself. 

"Yes…" she whimpered, her eyes welling with tears that she tried to blink away. Sans stared down at her, his eye sockets narrowing. How could a skull move like that? Her stomach rumbled, snapping her out of her trance. 

"I...guess I am a little hungry," she admitted, her voice cracking. Sans grunted in annoyance and turned away without another word. She shuddered as he lumbered up the stairs. When the door clicked closed she let out a sob, and the tears broke free. 

" _Oh mon Dieu!"_ She breathed shakily. Flowey went to her and brushed her tears away with a leaf. 

"I know...he's awful," he murmured. She nodded and wiped her tears away with her sweater. She flinched as there was a bang upstairs, promptly followed by, _"SHIT!"_ Her face paled and she tried to calm her breathing. 

"We have to find a way out of here, Flowey. I can't…" she whimpered. She hiccuped as she tried to stifle her cries. She especially didn't want to be found crying by someone like Sans. It would only fuel him. Maybe he'd think she was trying to manipulate him. Or maybe he was just a sick freak who liked feeding off of people's fear. 

She yelped when the door banged open and she hung her head as her body trembled with the last of her sobs. She spared a glance and saw the skeleton approach her. He was holding something and the smell of food welcomed her nose. 

"Here," he grunted. She looked up and wiped her eyes. It was a hot dog. A simple meat, bun, and mustard combination. Hot dogs were probably her favorite American food, she didn't care what her European friends said. A ghost of a smile flickered across her face at the familiarity and she reached up for it. 

"Oh, thank you…" she muttered as she took the hotdog. Her eyes lit up as she stared down at it. More tears began to stream down her face and she smiled for real this time. Sans watched with curiosity as she smiled down at the humble little hot dog he had made. She certainly had a charm about her that he couldn't pin down. He growled at the notion and turned away. 

"Eh, shut up," he said before jogging up the stairs and finally leaving her alone. 

Frisk wolfed the food down. She was ravenous and at that moment, that hot dog was the best thing she'd ever tasted in her life. Flowey glanced at her with worry in his eyes as she sucked on her fingers for any remnants of taste. 

"That could've been poisoned," grunted Flowey. Frisk glanced up at him, a small rise of panic in her stomach, before she shook him off. 

"I don't think it was. That would be too easy, wouldn't it?" She said, mostly to calm herself down. It had been a nice gesture, whether it was intentional or not, and Frisk would've rather seen it that way than to assume there was malice behind it. What could be malicious about a hotdog?

Flowey seemed satisfied by the answer. He knew the sentries. Papyrus was one for the dramatics and Sans would never go through the effort of poisoning something. 

"I suppose you're right…" he muttered. Frisk smiled and began to work the binds once more. 

"Help me loosen this…can you speak French?" She asked. Flowey glanced up at her. 

"I...I can't speak it, but I can understand," he admitted. Frisk glanced back up at the staircase and swallowed her fear. 

_"Voici ce que nous allons faire—"_

"Oh boy, please slow down, I'm a little rusty," he interrupted, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. Frisk smirked and nodded. 

"Sorry... _voici...ce que nous...allons faire,"_ she drawled on in French, explaining her plan to leave at night, trying her best to go slow for her friend to understand. He nodded slowly. 

"Is there anywhere we could go?" She asked in a whisper. Flowey tried to think. 

"If I am correct, there's a hotel in Snowden...but, you're a human, and you don't have any Gold. I don't think there really is a place for you…" he said, his voice trailing at the realization that she'd be out in the woods. 

"Well...I'd rather be free than a prisoner to these bastards," she whispered. Flowey nodded firmly. 

"Of course. Let me help you untie them," he said. Frisk sat back and held up her hands as Flowey began to loosen the binds. 

"Don't completely untie them, just make sure they're loose. I don't want them to come in and see me freed, then they might hurt me, or worse, you." Flowey's eyes widened at her concern for him. He understood, and only loosened the knots enough that she could squeeze her hands out when the time was right. He then moved to her legs and did the same so that when her hands were freed, she could untie them and bolt. 

Now...well now they just had to play the waiting game. Frisk was good at that. She could be their little prisoner and then come tonight she'd be Scott free. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Breaking News: Sans is an asshole. 
> 
> Up next: Frisk tries to escape and runs into some... vicious adversity. 
> 
> Please don't forget to leave a review and kudos if you like the story! Also, should I update more often instead of only on the weekends?


	6. The Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEY! Vsauce, Michael here...what IS an update schedule? I don't know, because I don't follow them.

Chapter Six: The Dogs 

* * *

That night, Frisk couldn't sleep at all. Everytime she dozed off, she believed she could see two red lights glaring back at her. Each time she jerked awake, her breath coming out in short gasps. 

It was time to make a move. Any longer trapped down in this basement and she'd probably go insane. Flowey was awake the moment she began to move, and the two tore off the nylon chords. Once free, Frisk shook off the aches and pains of having been tied up and paced about. The basement she was kept in was extremely cluttered, with loose two by fours and water pipes. It looked like some makeshift workshop mixed with a storage space. 

There were towers of boxes filled with God knows what and then those rickety stairs leading into the Skeletons' home. Flowey sat atop her shoulder to provide a second set of eyes as they ascended up the stairs. It occurred to her that she had no idea where her bag that Toriel had packed was. She didn't have to time to wonder either. She'd have to leave it behind. _Fine, as long as I can get out of here,_ she thought. 

When she reached the top she slowly opened the door and a soft light hit her eyes. There was a long hallway, with an in table where a lamp sat. A dim honey gold light flooded the darkness and she smiled with relief. She stepped away from the basement and closed the door with extreme care. A breath escaped her when it gave a soft click and she clutched the hammer tight to her. She’d get out of this, she'd have to. 

The hallway opened into a cluttered foyer and a large front door. Her heart thudded in her chest and rang in her ears. God she was so scared, but she was so close. That was her way out! Without wasting anymore time, she darted forward and fiddled with the locks until she was free. Each second spent in that God-forsaken house felt like an hour. Any sound made her flinch. 

_Meow—_ Frisk gasped and whirled around. She caught the silvery glimmer of two large eyes in the shadows. The shadows seemed to be writhing. Her breathing grew hard as her heart pounded in her chest. _It's a cat, Frisk._ She told herself as her hand fumbled for the door knob. 

She heaved the door open and bolted outside before she closed it behind her with a soft click. She looked around, her heart pounding in her ribs.

"Step one: escape the basement, complete," whispered Flowey, his little voice laced with excitement. Snow swirled about outside. As of now she was covered by a porch, but the weather outside looked rather nasty. Where was she going to go? How was she going to survive? A part of her wished she had stayed with Toriel. At least she would've been safe...but she had been too stubborn to do that. Or maybe she had just been scared. Whatever it was, she couldn't go back now. 

Frisk crept past the porch and down the stairs before she was out in the open. 

"Which way Flowey?" She asked. Flowey looked around, his beady eyes squinting in the dark. 

"I think...I think it's that way," he said, pointing to the right. His leaves were directing her towards a worn path that cut through the trees. With a firm nod, she sprinted down the road, oblivious to the red pinpricks of light glaring at her from the second floor. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Frisk trudged ankle-deep through the snow, her breath frosting the air as she shivered violently. Flowey had told her to stay off the road, and she didn't argue. She knew better than anyone that would be the easiest place to find a runaway. 

As she walked, her breath hitched; a long, blood curdling wolf's howl. It was dangerously close. Flowey squeaked. 

"We need to go. Run, those are the dogs, the moment they catch your scent, you're done for!" He whispered harshly into her ear. Frisk's heart jumped into her throat and she took off running through the woods. Her boots kicked up snow as she stumbled about. It seemed as if the forest itself was trying to stop her. Thickets of thorns snagged at her and threatened to pull her down as she staggered through the snow. 

Another, deeper howl resounded through the air, followed by three more blood chilling wails. They didn't sound like normal wolves. It was as if they had come straight from hell. 

Then a shadow stalked out from the trees in the distance. Frisk stopped in her tracks, her heart racing and eyes wide with terror. Flowey froze on her shoulder. Frisk hid behind a large, black tree, her breath coming out in heavy, frosted gasps. Whatever was out there...it was terrifying. _How are you gonna get out of this one, Frisk?_ She thought bitterly to herself as she gulped. 

Heavy, canine pants cut through the icy silence and she could hear the soft crunch of snow under the animal's paws. Her heart thundered in her chest as the beast let out another blood chilling howl. The three deep howls answered and Frisk shook uncontrollably. The melancholic and hellish wails cut through her soul and tears welled in her eyes as she could feel the constant rage and sorrow the monsters felt. The only way they could relieve themselves was through song. 

Her soul glowed as the hound began reaching out to her and she gasped. She wanted to run, hunt, tear through flesh, and drag souls to hell. 

"Frisk...Frisk!" She could barely hear Flowey's voice as she began to stumble away from the tree, drawn to the hell hound like a moth to flame. 

Flowey panicked when he saw the way Frisk's soul was glowing, and he reached out with his vines to grab onto the tree. His roots dug into her shirt and he pulled her back. It was too late though, the dog had found her and gave a hellish snarl. 

Flowey slapped Frisk and she gasped, her soul fading from view. 

"Good going, idiot!" He spat as the hell hound pounced forward. Frisk gave a shrill cry and dove out from the hell hound's path. It crashed into a tree and rolled over her as she stumbled into a run. It was massive! She had never seen a dog that big in her life. It had to be half the size of a Shire Horse, and it's eyes glowed with a fearsome red. 

"There's no way you're going to outrun it!" Squealed Flowey. Frisk gasped for air as she dove and weaved through the trees as the hell hound nipped at her heels. It crashed through the trees as she tried to zig zag through the snow to throw the predator off. _I really_ am _in hell!_

"Wait! He can't go over moving water! Head towards the bridge, I'll see if I can hold him off!" Ordered Flowey. She nodded and sprinted towards the road. The dog faltered slightly and stood tall before releasing a deeper, more sadistic howl. Her face paled as ahead of her, trees began to crack. 

Flowey ushered her on, standing tall on her shoulder as the hellhound crashed out of the trees after Frisk as she leapt onto the frozen, dirt road. The hairs of her neck stood up as the flower summoned his magic. She didn't spare a glance as the whistles of his white bullets pelted against the giant dog. It yelped and stumbled back. 

Her legs were like lead, and her lungs burned. She wanted to collapse, and she could hardly breath at all. Her heart raced a mile a second and she screamed from both pain and terror. She had to keep going though, if she didn't, she'd be a ravaged carcass.

To make matters worse, a huge wolf crashed through the trees after the hellhound. It carried with it three heads, each glowing with hellish red eyes, and it was even larger than the hellhound that was already after her. She skidded on the ice on the road as the road curved. 

The Hellhound caught up to her and pounced on top of Frisk, slamming her to the ground. Dog and human tumbled together, Frisk hissing with pain as the rough gravel and ice cut across her face, and her bruised ribs screamed in pain. 

Flowey cried out and shot the dog with another one of his white pellets. The dog snarled and staggered away, his claws raking into Frisk's back as she crawled back to her feet. She wailed with pain, the sound of her sweater ripping and the sting of her now exposed and bleeding skin almost enough to make her start to sob. 

"Get up!" Shrieked Flowey. Frisk moaned as she heaved herself to her feet. The three headed cerberus charged forward, not giving her any time to recover as it knocked her to her feet once more and grabbed her in its large jaws. She cried out and began to punch at the dog's nose as it loped forth along the road. The burns on her arms ached as she pounded against the cerberus's maw. Its teeth prodded her body, but it was clear it hadn't intended to kill her...yet. 

"Frisk!" Wailed Flowey. Frisk snarled and punched the cerberus on the snout. 

_"Lâche-moi!"_ She cried as she pounded the cerberus's maw relentlessly. She couldn't let this happen to her! Not after everything she'd been through! She wasn't going to let a dog be the death of her. 

Suddenly, the cerberus skidded to a stop, it's heads yelping in terror. What was this beast possibly afraid of? Had they made it to the bridge? Frisk gripped the dog's gnarled black fur and pulled herself up to see what had come between her predator and whatever mission he was on. 

Her heart froze when she saw who was standing on the Bridge. 

"Sans…" whimpered Flowey with defeat. The cerberus dropped Frisk and stepped back, before he tucked his tail between his legs and rolled to the ground in submission. The Hellhound barked, its ears pressing against his head as the Skeleton stood, eyes black as the night; his grin ever so wide and cruel. 

She groaned in pain. The sting of her new wounds and the frozen air did nothing to ease her suffering. She was both cold and warm, warm because hot blood was dripping down her back. Sans chuckled darkly and stooped down. 

"Stay away from her," snarled Flowey. Sans shot him a withering look. 

"I knew you'd try somethin' like this… I mean, how else did you get away from the Ruins?" His hands glided into her hair and she shuddered. The pants of the dogs filled the silence as Sans stared down at her with a sadistic curiosity. 

"So you sent them after us," murmured Flowey. Sans laughed in his face and looked up at the two hellhounds practically bowing to him like he was their master. 

"Nah. They're just good at their job… but now that they know you exist… they'll be ever watchful. And the next time you try this shit… _darlin_ ," he yanked at her hair and forced her to look up at him, "I'll let them rip you to shreds; and I'll watch them do it too." Her eyes went wide at the threat and tears began to roll down her cheeks. _I'm never going to be free…_ she thought, and it was the final straw she needed to let out a choked sob. 

"Are you gonna kill me?" She asked with shaking breaths. The dogs snarled at the sound of her small, trembling voice. Sans grinned cruelly down at her and shrugged. 

"If I wanted to kill ya, you'd already be dead," he spat, before he dragged her to her feet by her hair. She gasped at the pain. Her whole body stung and throbbed. She was a bloody mess.

"Good work, boys." Sans summoned a bone from thin air and tossed it with absolutely no effort. For a second, the terrifying, hulking beasts, acted like average house pets in the way they threw themselves after it. She glared across at Sans as he gripped her firmly, tears streaming down her cheeks. So close. She had been so close. He grunted, and a red mist surrounded them. Her eyes widened in alarm and he chuckled under his breath. 

The mist was scalding hot and ice cold at the same time as it covered her, and she found she couldn't breath. She gasped, choked with both pain and fear of what he was doing. 

And then she stood in the cellar once again, the same cellar she had escaped not but moments before. She gasped for air and stumbled back as he let her go. Her ass hit the floor and she yelped with pain. Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and glared down at her. Flowey was unconscious, perhaps from the stress of the strange teleportation they had just undergone. 

Sans stalked towards her, and reached out to take Flowey away. _No!_ She couldn't lose Flowey, he was the one thing keeping her sane! She crawled away from him, but Sans was much larger than she was and he tore the flower off of her clothing, which ripped another hole in the tattered garment. 

Flowey snapped awake and screamed, trying to summon his bullets. Sans held him away with his magic, stopping any attack Flowey had planned in its tracks. There was no fighting this monster! 

"Don't hurt him!" She gasped. Sans looked down at her. 

"And why wouldn't I? He's an accomplice; and honestly, he's downright annoying." He grinned sadistically, a glimmer in his eyes. She began to cry and babble in unintelligible French as she tried to put her words together. 

" _Je vous en prie!_ Hurt me all you want, I can take it, but for God's sake don't hurt Flowey!" She begged. He tilted his head as Flowey stared wide eyed at the skeleton. 

"That's the most interesting thing you've said all day," he chuckled. She swallowed her terror. He was just another cruel man in her life. She had survived. She'd continue to survive. Flowey, however— well, she just couldn't let him get hurt; not because of her. 

Sans tilted his head curiously at her before he dropped Flowey. He thudded to the ground with a yelp before he crawled away into the shadows of the basement to hide from the skeleton. Sans ignored the flower and stared dead at Frisk, his grin leering at her. 

"You're a funny one Frenchie…I really can't wait to see what you try to do next." She stared wide eyed at him as he grinned down at her. He could rip her throat open with those fangs if he wanted to. They were so sharp. _Be strong, he'll feed off of your fear. Don't give him that pleasure._ She swallowed her resolve and glared up at him. _"Va pourrir en Enfer,"_ she whispered under her breath. Sans eyed her, his grin growing. 

"Sweet dreams," he said as he made his way to the stairs. He trusted that she wasn't stupid enough to try again. He was right. She could feel her determination crumbling around her as she grew more and more terrified of what awaited her past these walls. Those dogs, the way they had called to her, the claws that had ripped through her skin. She winced in pain. The icy terror that pierced her soul. They had a taste of her too, and she knew the moment she stepped outside again, she'd be ripped apart. Sans's threat rang in her mind. She was stuck with them. These skeletons, she was stuck there. At least until she could find a way to get around the dogs. Until then, she'd have to play the waiting game. If she could survive that long. 

Sans left her alone with her thoughts as she formulated a plan. 

"What now?" Asked Flowey. Frisk narrowed her eyes as she began to peel off the tattered and bloody sweater. 

"Papyrus," she murmured, a flicker of hope lighting in her eyes. He had told Sans to make sure she was comfortable, Sans assumed she was manipulating him. If he was the more sympathetic of the brothers, then maybe she'd have a chance. He seemed to also be the one in charge. 

"What about him?" Asked Flowey, turning away his eyes as she undressed. Frisk turned to him and smiled sadly. 

"Don't worry about that Flowey… don't worry about _me._ I'll always have a plan. You on the other hand… I would tell you to get out while you still can," she said as she paced about the room to patch up her wounds and possibly find a blanket. 

"I'm not leaving you… you're the first person I've met down here that's ever… stood up for me, that didn't try to hurt me. I want to protect you," he said. She stared down at him as she pulled a box down. 

Frisk winced as the lacerations on her back stung horridly. She seethed through her clenched teeth and put the box down. Inside was a pile of blankets and she pursed her lips. 

They shared a companionable silence as Frisk gazed down at the grotesque little flower with the kindest heart she had ever met. She couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to her like that.

_"L'union fait la force,"_ she whispered softly to him. Frisk sighed and wiped away the blood trickling down her forehead. _Go to bed, Frisk. You're exhausted._ Frisk listened to the little voice in her head and crawled to the ground with her piles of blankets. Her body was in so much pain. She shook violently and tightened the blankets around her. 

Flowey crawled toward her and curled up at her feet as if he were a cat.

"You look like shit by the way… I can heal you. It won't do much but it should stop the bleeding," offered Flowey in the quiet of the night. Frisk smiled softly, as her eyes began to well up.

"That would be helpful," she whispered. She watched as pale, green threads of light wound out of Flowey's leaves. Magic was fascinating. It was as if phantom vines were reaching for her and her soul began to glow a soft red. The magic itself stung harshly and she gasped. 

"Sorry!" Whispered Flowey as his magic wove into her skin. It burned like acid against her wound, but she fought through the pain. In no time, it had ended and Flowey withdrew his magic. She gasped and lay back. She was no longer bleeding, her wounds were still rather raw and it ached at the touch, but at least they wouldn't get infected. 

"Thank you, Flowey." The two fell into another companionable silence, and it wasn't long before she could hear the soft snores of the flower. Tears began to prick her lashes. How had her life come to this? 

Has she always been in so much strife? Had it always been like this? _Is this always going to be my life?_ Constantly in danger, constantly at the mercy of an angry man? In Lyon, it had been Claude. In Sicily, it had been Don Valeska, and in Ebbot, it had been Damian. And now...in the Underground, it was _Sans the Skeleton._

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she let out a soft sob. Frisk cried until eventually she couldn't any longer, and sleep overcame her. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It appears Frisk is going to have to think of a new escape strategy. The one she has isn't working anymore. Also, News Update: Sans is still an asshole. That...that isn't going to change for awhile. 
> 
> Up Next: Papyrus lays some ground rules for his new prisoner. 
> 
> Please don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment to show your appreciation!


	7. Rules

Chapter Seven: Rules

* * *

"Gargoruth said he saw sum'fin' last night." Sans sat with his feet up on the desk in the little sentry station with a lycan by the name of Doug. Some useless mutt he was, he couldn't smell and he was half blind for that matter, but he was smart. He was funny too, so Sans had convinced Papyrus not to fire him. Even after the countless blunders. 

He snapped to attention when Doug mentioned the incident he had everted the night before. That damn human was going to get them in a lot of trouble if Papyrus held onto her any longer without making a decision. They needed to kill her. Maybe then Papyrus could take her soul and...maybe fight against the king. Or escape, kill six other humans and free them. He was capable of it; if anyone was capable of that, it was Papyrus. 

But not if Doug wagged his tongue about whatever Garg or Lez had _seen_ last night. 

"Oh yeah? What was that?" He grunted. Doug eyed the skeleton warily before he cleared his throat and fumbled for his pack of cigars. 

"Well," he said as he tried to get his lighter to work, "he said that him and Lez almost killed a human the otha' night. He said the lit'le dame was quite quick on the heels and gave 'em a lit’le chase. Can you believe that mate? How could a human outrun a couple-a hellhounds?" _She had help,_ thought Sans before he shrugged. Doug kept fumbling with the lighter before Sans grunted in annoyance and snatched it away from him. 

"Don't hurt yourself bud… so what do you think? Think there's a human?" He asked. Doug glanced at him as Sans lit the end of his cigar for him. 

"Well, I'm just curious. Cause the otha' day, you sounded the alarm and had us combin' the dark wood up in 'ere past the fence…" Sans chuckled at the prank he had pulled that had gotten him into so much trouble, and also rewarded him highly. After all, had it not been for that little stunt that human would've probably been dead and what a shame that would be. She was… interesting. Part of Sans wanted to keep her alive and see what she'd try to do. Of course it was up to Papyrus, not him. 

"Oye, I bet you thought that was fuckin' hilarious, but I'm tellin ya mate, the dogs neva' lie to me. If they said they almost killed a human, then—" 

"So what are ya sayin, Doug?" Asked Sans with a bored yawn. Maybe he should take a nap. It seemed kind of pointless to be at this guard station, but of course they had to be on the lookout for the runaways that tried to leave the Underground's borders to squat in the ruins. Not to mention humans. A little shut eye wouldn't hurt anyone though, would it? 

"I'm sayin'... Is you and Papyrus hidin' sum’fin'?" He asked. He rose his bushy eyebrow at Sans. Sans stared at Doug with a bemused expression. 

"Course not," he grunted. Doug narrowed his clouded eyes. 

"Sans… I know the dogs are scared of youse. Hell, with that said, every bugga’ in Snowden is scared of ya. If you told anyone to keep their mouf' shut, they'd keep their mouf' shut—"

"You're bein' ridiculous. I don't know what the dogs saw, 'cause I was sleepin'. But if there was a human, you know Papyrus would do the right thing. You trust him to do the right thing, dontcha?" He asked. Doug clenched his teeth and took a long drag from his cigar. 

"Sans! I must speak with you!" The two sentries glanced at each other and Sans smirked. 

"Speak of the devil," he mused. Doug grunted and stood up with Sans as Papyrus stomped into the border checkpoint. He froze at the sight of Doug before he scowled and lifted his nose. 

"Get this disgusting, little _mutt_ out of my presence this instant, Sans. I must talk to you privately." Doug shot Sans a withering glare. 

"Right...the _right_ thing." He murmured. Sans waved him off and held open his arms to address his brother. As Doug slipped past Papyrus, the tall skeleton grabbed him by the scruff and yanked the cigar out of his hand. 

"No smoking while on the job," he barked, before throwing him out of the station. He slammed the door behind him before turning on Sans like a rabid dog. _So he's not in the best mood._ Thought Sans bitterly at the rough treatment of his colleague. 

Papyrus sat in the chair Doug had been sitting in and glared across at Sans. 

"I'm going to ask you one question, Sans, and when I do, you will tell me the truth, no matter the consequences, because if you _lie_ to me, you will be very, _very,_ sorry," he said with a scathing voice. Sans gulped and sat back in his chair. To ease the tension, he softened his hard grin and gestured for his brother to continue. Besides, he didn’t do anything wrong, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Right?

"Shoot your shot, boss," he said with his shit-eating grin. Papyrus scowled at his casualness. 

"Stop being so smug. I went to check on the human last night and she was missing her clothes, she had the worst scars on her back and her face, and her shackles were off. Listen, I don't know what you get up to when I'm not around. I don't know, and quite frankly, I don't _want_ to know what sick, little, perverted things you get off to, but you better stay away from the tiny human. She is mine, San—"

"—Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone. You think _I_ did that?" He asked. Papyrus glared at him. 

"Well then regail me Sans, with all the thrilling details. She wouldn't say a thing to me when I asked her what happened. So I only assumed she had been assaulted by you, and that you were forcing her to keep quiet about it," he snarled with disgust. Sans narrowed his eyes at Papyrus, annoyed that his brother was turning on him to defend some human. 

"Ya wanna know what she did, huh? I'll tell ya. She escaped last night and the dogs got to her. She was _lucky_ that I stepped in and saved her ass. I'm the hero of this little story so maybe you should start showing some more _appreciation_ ," he spat. Papyrus stared coldly at him before he slowly stood up and paced about the room. He glared at Sans from time to time as the cogs in his skull turned endlessly. Sans could almost smell the smoke coming out of Papyrus's head as he processed everything. 

Sans turned away and kicked his feet up on the desk once more. 

"She...tried to run away? From the Terrible Papyrus?" The two brothers stared at each other before Papyrus began to chuckle. Sans eased up and he followed in the laughter. 

"Yep. You should've seen how scared she was. The dogs scared her enough to where she won't try anything, I made sure of that," he said between laughs. Papyrus cackled before he slammed Sans's skull into the wall. Sans groaned and looked up at Papyrus with malice in his eyes. 

"Yo, what the fuck, Paps!?" He barked as he held his skull, a small crack running along the top. _That fuckin' bastard_. All amusement on Papyrus's face was gone. 

"You think this is a joke Sans? Oh yes, how _hilarious._ The dogs will talk, Sans. Word will get out that we have a human in our custody—" 

"—Well that shouldn't be a problem if we—" 

"—DON'T INTERRUPT ME… word will get out that we have a _human_ in our _custody_ and everything we worked for will be taken and our necks will be broken _publicly,"_ He snarled. "And you think the dogs _roughing_ her up a bit and scaring her from running off is _funny_ .” Sans lowered his eyes. _Heh, roughing...ruffing. Heh._ He stifled a snort and plastered a more serious look on his face. An icy silence stretched between them as Sans held his aching head. 

"Well, can I ask a question of my own?" He asked quietly once the silence had dragged on for too long. Papyrus scoffed and leaned against the wall. 

"Ask away Sans," he grumbled. Sans glared up at him, his grin ever present. 

"What the hell are you gonna do with the human? Kill her? You _should_ kill her. Think about the possibilities of havin' a human soul," he said. Papyrus glared down at him before he sighed. 

"I _have_ thought about it Sans. Think; if I kill the human and took her soul for myself, I would be god-like. That sounds all great and grand until you realize that there would be no hiding it. Asgore has six souls in his possession. The moment he found out someone had absorbed one, he'd retaliate by absorbing all of his. Thousands of monsters would die in the battle. It's just not worth it.

"Now, if I turned in the human, the king would have seven souls. He'd be unstoppable. Who knows what he'd do with that power. You and I both know that… We can't let that happen. We have the power to decide what happens with the future of monster kind," he explained. Sans nodded along; his eyes darkened as they shared both understanding and dark memories. 

"So what are you saying? We're just gonna...hold onto her like a prisoner? She's gonna get found out sooner or later," he said. Papyrus nodded. 

"I don't… I don't _know_ what to do with her. I don't believe killing her is an option. Not when we could use her for other things," he said. Sans smirked to himself as he thought of ways _he_ could use her. 

"She is fascinating Sans… I never knew humans could be so strange." Sans couldn't deny that. There was something so intriguing about the woman. She was definitely fascinating. But, was she worth keeping around? It seemed like a liability. Like some kind of burden they'd have to constantly be aware of. That sounded like a _lot_ of work. However, it didn't seem like there were any other options. At least not for now. 

How long could they keep a human without being found out? Especially if she was just as _determined_ to get away as she had been last night. She could prove extremely difficult if she wasn't broken in. But that would be Sans's job wouldn't it? _I wonder how far a human could be pushed before they crack?_ He mused.

"But...what could we possibly do with a human other than kill it?" Murmured Papyrus as he paced about the station. Sans could think of a lot of things, but he'd never say that out loud. _She is a cute little thing…_ he thought to himself. 

"I bet I could figure out something," muttered Sans as he stared out the window. Papyrus scowled as he saw the suggestive grin growing on his older brother's face. 

"Absolutely not. I don't trust you as far as I can spit. I...I suppose, until I think of something permanent, she could be our servant. Like a tiny little maid. Maybe having some help would pick up the slack of your laziness. The house is always in a disaster because of you doing nothing but sitting on your ass. She could be useful in that regard," said Papyrus. Sans ignored the jab at his character and turned his thoughts to the idea of having a cute, little human servant running around at his every command. _She's also French. Oh this just gets better._

"Don't get any ideas Sans. She's mine and I don't want you ruining her." Sans snapped out of his disgusting fantasies and gave Papyrus a lazy grin. 

"Don't worry Boss… I can enjoy the view from a distance," he teased. Papyrus glared at him. 

"I hope you know you're deplorable beyond belief. Be home by eight o'clock so we can discuss terms with the tiny human. You know what that means, correct?" He asked with a patronizing tone. Sans narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. 

"No Grillb—"

"—NO GRILLBY'S." Sans nodded and Papyrus grinned triumphantly. With that, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the station. Sans watched as his brother mounted his pride and joy, a large, black unicorn that he called Calibri. 

Calibri blew out a puff of frosty air as Papyrus kicked him into a walk. Sans stared out at him and grinned lazily at his brother. Papyrus shot him a withering look from atop his mount, before he whistled at his horse. It cantered away, and Sans let out a sigh of relief now that he was alone. 

He grinned and sat back in his seat. _I'm gonna have a great time,_ he thought with a pleased chuckle. 

  
  
  


⁂

  
  
  


Frisk started when the door to the cellar was slammed open and the two skeletons marched down. She had spent the whole day sitting around and sleeping off the pain and terror of last night. The lacerations on her back were still raw, despite Flowey’s healing magic. She dreaded the knowledge that they'd leave nasty scars. The cut on her forehead had healed by then as well. When Papyrus had seen the state she was in that morning, he had asked her a lot of head-aching questions, but he had also, at least, given her a shirt to wear. Now it appeared he was back… with company. Her eyes darkened at the sight of Sans trailing behind his more agreeable brother.

"The human is awake! Good. We demand an audience with you," spat Papyrus. Frisk stumbled to her feet and nodded frantically. She still wasn't used to Papyrus's loud, booming voice. Flowey shot up from his slumber and snarled at the two skeletons. 

"Don't hurt Frisk!" He spat. Sans chuckled darkly behind his taller brother and Frisk paled at his voice. Papyrus glared at the flower before he scoffed. 

"Don't be ridiculous you pathetic _weed._ Come, tiny human, we must discuss your usefulness," said Papyrus. Sans scoffed and shook his head. Frisk knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to kill her, and that the only thing standing between him and taking her soul was his terrifying brother. Because of that, she'd make sure Papyrus loved her. 

She flashed him a dazzling and grateful smile and swallowed her disgust and pride. She'd do whatever it took to make sure she could stay alive. She just...couldn't let herself die. Not like this anyway. Sans glared at her, but Papyrus merely smiled back and led the way upstairs. 

As Sans fell in line behind her as they trailed up the rickety old stairs, she could feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of her head. 

Their house was extremely grand. It was filled with lush furniture, thick curtains and paintings of all sizes. There was one painting that stood out to her as they passed the living room; it was of Papyrus. The painting itself looked as if it had been painted in the Renaissance by the one and only Leonardo Da Vinci. Frisk's eyes widened at the painting but she couldn't appreciate it for what it was, because she was ushered past the living room as if the house was on fire. 

There was a long corridor filled with mirrors and plush curtains, and an in-table with a lamp. It led to Papyrus's home office. She certainly hadn't been expecting this. She had been expecting them to take her out back and put a bullet through her head and claim her soul. Or, maybe she had been expecting something a little more disgusting. The men on the surface would've done that. When a poor girl was pushed to choose between living or dying, men usually took advantage of their love for life. Frisk certainly did love life. Not particularly the one she had lead, but she couldn't comprehend the reality of her own mortality. 

Papyrus sat behind his large mahogany desk and folded his hands together. Sans leaned against the door and gestured for her to sit in the chair facing the desk; Frisk climbed into it. She felt like a little girl brought into her father's office to be lectured. Of course, the house wasn't nearly as big as Toriel's home, but monster furniture once again proved to be gigantic. She felt at least twelve years old. Her legs dangled from the chair. 

"Human, I have decided not to kill you…" he paused for dramatic effect, and it worked because Frisk was completely taken aback. _What?_ She thought with shock. 

"Your soul is far too valuable and powerful to just...unleash into this hellhole. If I took your soul, I wouldn't be able to hide the absolute power you would give me, and I would be executed on sight. King Asgore, he...well he wouldn't let that happen. Right Sans?" Explained Papyrus. Frisk recalled what Toriel had said back in the ruins. _That's what he's done to our kingdom, child._ She couldn’t help but feel an indescribable curiosity. 

"Yep." Sans's voice brought Frisk back to reality and she started. She looked behind her shoulder at him and he gave her a toothy grin that froze her to the core. 

"So… I had a few _ideas_ on how you would spend your time here with us. It is far too dangerous for a human to be out there by herself. Your only option would be to stay here and serve us in some way. We would protect you in return. How does that sound?" Asked Papyrus. Frisk stared, dumbfounded, at Papyrus. _A few ideas, huh?_ She thought, immediately expecting the worse. She glanced back at Sans, who was grinning at her. She shuddered and turned once more back to Papyrus. _Think Frisk…_ She wanted more than anything to be in some kind of control over her life for once. _Play the game._ She nodded slightly before she smiled that charming little smile of hers once again. 

"You have no idea how grateful I am to you. You truly are the _great_ Papyrus," she breathed, leaning forward in her chair. She knew what she had to do in order to stay safe in this hellhole. Stroke the ego of and charm the great Papyrus. Then she'd be protected. That's what she did to Damian. And when Damian had been charmed by her, no one could lay a finger on her. Well… until she had grown to hate him. Then he had ordered her dead. 

Papyrus smiled at her, and Frisk tried to ignore the burning eyes of Sans the Skeleton, because _he_ didn't matter to her at all. He wasn't the one who was going to protect her, he was if anything, the one to hurt her. He certainly seemed to revel in her fear and besides… he knew her act. As long as he wouldn't whisper wisdom into his brothers ear and turn him against her, she should be quite safe. 

"I'm glad you've come to your senses. I shall expect no more late night gallavants with you?" He asked with a bit of humor in his voice. A dark chuckle rolled out of Sans and she clenched her jaw. Why was everything that Skeleton did so fucking _wrong?_ Did he live to be menacing? Frisk tried to ignore him and stared up at Papyrus, her doe-brown eyes big and filled with gratitude. She forced a little giggle and looked away shyly. 

"No, no. I was scared and…" she spared a glance up at him through her thick lashes. Papyrus rolled his shoulders back. "To be frank… I didn't want to be killed," she said with another giggle. Papyrus chuckled along and looked up at his brother. 

"Well, have no fear Human, as long as you follow my rules and of course, obey my every demand, no harm shall come to you. Right… Sans?" Growled Papyrus. Frisk glanced back and noticed the look in Sans's eyes as he stared at her. She quickly looked away.

"Right… boss. Although, may I ask, just what exactly is she gonna be doin'? I don't think we eva' really decided," grunted Sans. Papyrus nodded and looked back down at Frisk. 

"How good are you with housework?" He asked. Frisk looked up. _That's it?_ She asked. Housework? 

"Um… do you mean like… cleaning?" She asked. Papyrus chortled at her. 

"Isn't she just adorable? _Do you mean cleaning?_ That's so sweet. Are all humans like you?" He asked. Frisk's eyes darkened and she looked away. 

"No." The room fell silent at the grave words, but Papyrus promptly waved them away. 

"No matter. Yes. I meant cleaning. Cleaning, cooking, caring for the animals," he listed. Frisk sat straighter. She couldn't believe what he was saying. All he wanted her to do was housework? A small, genuine smile graced her lips. How… nice. She nodded quickly. 

"Yes. Yes, no, I can definitely do that. I can… cook, clean, what kind of animals do you have?" She asked. Papyrus waved in a general direction. 

"Oh, a noble steed of course, Calibri, some basilisks, a shade, and… I suppose that would be it," he said firmly. Frisk blinked at the names he had used. _Basilisks? Shade? What?_ When Papyrus saw the confusion on her face, his eye sockets widened. 

"Oh… I suppose humans do not have those. A shade is well… like a shadow creature? Ours is Arial, she comes in the form of a cat. And, have you ever heard of a Cockatrice?" He asked. Realization dawned on Frisk that he was speaking of magical creatures. But of course. All demons and magic were damned to this hell after the war. All except of course for the dark magic that a human could conjur. She nodded along. 

"So basically, a cat, some chickens, and a horse?" She asked. Sans snorted and shook his head in disbelief at this situation. Frisk couldn't exactly blame him. Here were two fearsome monsters interviewing a tiny little human on if she could clean their house and take care of their magical pets. She almost laughed herself. 

"Precisely. Now, I suppose you'll be needing a room of your own. The cellar is...not exactly for sleeping, and I do want you to be comfortable. After all, no admirer of the Great, Lieutenant Papyrus will go without comforts," he said. Frisk smiled, despite the fact he was terrifying and loud… he had a gentle heart. At least, to the people that "admired" him. 

"You're too kind," she said. Papyrus grunted and glanced up at his brother. 

"Yes well… now I must present a few _rules._ You are to never enter my room, or Sans's room without our express permission… although I advise you not to enter Sans's room even _with_ his permission, it is disgusting," he said. Sans shot his brother a look and Frisk tried to stifle a small laugh. She may have been absolutely terrified of them, but… she couldn't deny that they could be quite funny. Besides… she'd never want to go into that monster's room anyway so that shouldn’t be a problem. 

"Second, if you disobey me there will be consequences, and I will let Sans choose the punishments for going against me," he said, nodding to his brother. Frisk's eyes went wide as Sans chuckled under his breath. _No!_ That was definitely one way to keep her in line. She spared a glance back at the grinning skeleton, and he eyed her. She didn't like his look at all. There was something hungry and wolfish about that gaze and it made her insides crawl. 

"Third…every Friday night is Lasagna Night, I will be cooking so don't you _dare_ step on my toes and cook your own lasagna." Frisk looked up at Papyrus and nodded curtly. _That's a bit absurd…_ she mused, but she didn't dare question his authority or ruling. Her life was looking brighter. At least she wasn't shivering in a cellar with her hands bound so tight she lost blood flow. 

"Now, I will show you to your room. Make yourself comfortable… but not _too_ comfortable of course. Wouldn't want you getting too far ahead of yourself, Human." Frisk nodded hastily and followed the two skeletons through the hall and up a grand staircase. The second floor was even more lavish than the first. How were demons like these two so design savvy? Obviously this was all Papyrus, he seemed to put a lot more care into appearances. Sans's presence in the luxurious house was all wrong. 

Papyrus showed her to a small guest bedroom just down the hall from his room. Further down on the opposite end was Sans's. She could practically feel the hatred and terror radiating out of his room despite the closed door. 

Her room was also quite splendid. She stood frozen in the doorway as memories surfaced back into her mind. Her eyes darkened. It was so… rich… like the home she had shared with Damian back before she had betrayed him. She shook away those thoughts and focused on the present. There was a window looking outside. She could put Flowey there. Maybe give him a little pot… In the corner she saw her bag that Toriel had packed her and she smiled softly. _Eventually we'll have to pay that old woman a visit,_ she mused.

A sadness swelled in her heart and tears brimmed in her eyes. She swallowed back a lump. Why had the universe been so cruel to her? Did she truly deserve to be thrown in hell and made into a slave for a pompous demon and his horrifying, older brother? Had she somehow earned the death sentence her ex husband had given her? Had she deserved being toyed with and dressed up to be destroyed? Was her life always going to be her trying to build up from the bottom? Being enslaved, to break free and then be enslaved again? 

"Why are you doing that, tiny human?" Barked Papyrus when he caught the glimmer of tears rolling down her cheeks. Frisk weakly brushed them away and turned back to the brothers. She smiled nervously when she caught Sans's cocked brow bone and evil grin.

"I… I just… I've never seen such a beautiful home… I can't wait to start taking care of it," she breathed as she brushed away the tears. Papyrus smiled down at her before looking at Sans when he snorted at her. 

"Well, go on and get settled, Sans... why don't you make yourself useful? Go get that dreadful weed and bring it to her!" He snapped. Sans growled. 

"Why don't you?" He barked back. Frisk shrunk back as Papyrus loomed over his brother menacingly. He bared his fangs. 

"Just do it, you pitiful waste of oxygen!" Snarled Papyrus. Sans groaned and glanced back at Frisk. He shot her an amused look before he lazily meandered away. 

"Fine. Fine. Ya don't have to be such a prick about it," grumbled Sans. Papyrus rubbed the bridge of his nose bone and sighed dramatically, before he left her alone and went to his own room. 

Finally by herself, Frisk let out a long sigh and collapsed on her new bed as best she could, considering it was still quite large. She pulled herself onto the mattress and sighed into the duvet. It was probably the most comfortable thing she had ever laid on in her whole life. _Good going… I may not have escaped these assholes, but at least I charmed them into giving me an actual room._ She thought with a small smile. She played Papyrus like a fiddle! It hadn't been hard at all. Some men were just too easy. She didn't even have to give up her body… how would that even work? A skeleton… a skeleton couldn't do that, could it? She didn't want to think about it. 

As her door opened, she rolled up to attention, her hair falling over her eyes. She blew a strand out of her face and looked up to see Sans standing in the doorway, smirking at her. Flowey was in his grip and she jerked up onto her knees. She snatched her only friend out of the skeleton's grasp and Flowey breathed a deep sigh of relief at being in the safety of Frisk's arms. Sans stared at her with a smug grin. He hadn't left yet… She'd have to be careful, and she didn't want to offend him either. She didn't know if there were consequences to making the older brother mad. 

"Um…what can I do for you… _sir?"_ She asked, the word tasting vile in her mouth. Sans's grin grew wider. 

"Drop the act around me, sweetheart." He gave a curt laugh and shook his head before continuing, "You really are quite the little snake aren't you? Watching you in action… Papyrus was eating out of your hand. No one has ever gotten him to act like that. I mean—" 

"—What do you want, bone-head?" Snapped Flowey. Frisk paled and looked down at her friend. 

"Flowey! _Arrête ça!_ I'm sorry, please don't hurt him," she gasped. Sans eyed the little flower before he shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Sticks and stones… what I want, _lilly breath_ , is to know just what little Frisk thinks she can get out of this?" He asked. His grin leered at her and she found herself shrinking back toward the headboard. _To survive._ She almost grew mad. What did he think she was trying to do? Why did everyone expect the worst from her? She wasn't trying to do anything more than live to see another day. 

"I just want to keep my soul in my body," she murmured. Sans grinned at the answer. 

"Mm, don't we all… good luck with that," he said, before turning away and sauntering back down the hall. Frisk watched with bated breath as he closed his door behind him. When he was finally gone, she sighed and fell back. Flowey let out a shaking breath. 

"What a creep," he mumbled. Frisk fought to hide her smile at the little flower. What a creep indeed. _I have no idea how I'm going to survive this…_ she mused. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the bed seemed to envelope her in it's warmth. It wasn't long before she had fallen into a dreamless sleep with Flowey in her arms. 

  
  


⁂

  
  
  


Sans closed the door behind him, and now, finally alone, he let out a heavy breath. Watching the little Frenchie in action was quite the spectacle. There were times when even _he_ wanted to give her the world. 

That little smile she would flash. Oh she must've used that smile on hundreds of men to get her way. He couldn't deny that she was charming, and very pretty. Were all humans that _pretty?_ His brother obviously noticed too; of course he did, or he wouldn't have spared her life and given her the nicer guest bedroom. Papyrus of course, had never let his dick think for him. His ego on the other hand. _You have no idea how grateful I am to you. You truly are the_ great _Papyrus._ Sans couldn't remember the last time someone had said that kind of shit to his brother. Papyrus was rarely accustomed to praise, it was more terror and groveling before him on the streets. No one had ever been polite and smiled so dazzlingly at him. Sans was almost jealous. 

He scoffed and shook away those thoughts. _That's ridiculous._ He thought as he picked his way through his messy room. Still, the more he thought about the woman and her charms, the more he wished she'd direct them at him, even if he wouldn't fall for it for a second. Or maybe he was, and this was the proof. He was reminded of the night he had given her a hotdog, the way she had teared up and smiled at him as if hot dogs were the best thing on the planet and he was the best for giving them to her. _Stop being stupid!_

He couldn't help but grin however. She was probably the best prisoner they'd had in a long time. _Papyrus even let me pick punishments for when she gets a little_ Frisky _._ He laughed out loud at his joke and shook his head. She was so fucking scared of him that she wouldn't dare step out of line if it meant having to face him. That fact alone stroked Sans's own cruel ego. 

He imagined her in a cute little French maid outfit, dusting their furniture. Keeping her alive was probably one of Papyrus's best ideas, even if she was going to be a huge liability. What was life without a little danger? He wasn't going to let her under his _skin_ , or let her manipulate him the way she so expertly tugged at his brother… but he could enjoy the view. She was definitely more a sight for sore eyes than some of the monster girls he had been with before. They weren't anything compared to the woman living under his roof now. He shivered at the thought. _This ain't gonna be so bad._ He thought to himself. As long as she played nice, he was sure they'd get along great. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Btw, just in case anyone is confused, Doug is Doggo, Garg is Greater Dog and Lez is Lesser Dog. Dakota is Dogamy and Dorothy is Dogaressa. 
> 
> Anyway, up next Frisk makes herself comfortable in the brothers home. 
> 
> Please don't forget to drop a Kudos and leave a comment to show you enjoy the story!


	8. Getting Comfortable

Chapter Eight: Getting Comfortable

* * *

The next day started early. Too early. First there was a piercing rooster cry that somehow was much more awful than a normal rooster. Then, five minutes later Papyrus slammed about the house and knocked on doors to rouse his inhabitants. 

Frisk awoke with a groan, and Flowey followed suit. She got dressed in one of the sweater dresses Toriel had packed for her and her boots. She’d need new clothes soon. Maybe if she did a good job Papyrus would see it fit to take her shopping… or at least get her some new clothes. _Wishful thinking._ She reminded herself before jogging downstairs. Papyrus was nowhere to be seen, but she froze when she caught Sans in the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed her presence yet, so she ducked away and hid behind the wall. 

He was mumbling to himself as he made coffee, clearly tired as hell. She poked her head out and noticed there was a list sitting on the kitchen island. Most likely for her. 

“Sans! Let’s go!” shouted Papyrus as the front door slammed open. She flinched and jerked back into hiding as Sans groaned and stomped out of the kitchen. Frisk’s breath hitched as he marched past her. He grinned when he saw her. 

“Good luck…” he purred, before shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and jogging down the hall to the foyer. She held her breath until the front door slammed closed and she was sure they were gone. 

_Meow…_ Frisk flinched and glanced down the hall to the mudroom. In the shadows were two silver eyes and she was promptly reminded of the night she had escaped. This must’ve been the Shade Papyrus had mentioned. _What was its name?_

"Arial?" She whispered. She gasped as shadows began to move like smoke and a creature appeared before her. It definitely looked cat shaped. It was as if a cat should've been standing there, but instead the shadow it had cast was standing up instead. It meowed again and approached her. 

"Hey… hey kitty," she murmured hesitantly as she squat down to get on the creature's level. The shade cautiously crept up to her before it rubbed her head against Frisk's outstretched hand. It felt as if her fingers were passing through heavy water vapor. Warm and wispy and not at all how a cat should've felt, but still enduring in its own way. Frisk smiled as the shade began to purr. Now satisfied she had connected with the creature, she stood back up and made her way into the kitchen to fetch the note.

The kitchen itself was beautiful, and again she began to wonder just how the two skeletons had become so design savvy. This couldn't have been their home originally. There was a pot rack filled with copper pots and pans overhanging a kitchen island, and every appliance had a rustic-oriented design. Heavy red curtains draped over the cabinets and a window that overlooked a large backyard and garden. A garden of which was completely devoid of any life and covered in deathly ice. That was more in line with the personality of the brothers. Remembering them, she promptly turned back to her letter and sighed. 

The first thing she noticed was just how long the list was, the second thing was that Papyrus's handwriting was large, sharp and in hard to read cursive that she could barely make out. Eventually she could make out the words and she began to read. 

_Human! It is I, the great and terrible Papyrus, writing this letter to you. You will receive it in the morning. It will have your instructions for today. I apologise for not being able to supervise you, as my brother and I both have responsibilities to the Royal Guard._

_Nevertheless, your instructions are as follows:_

  * _There is a load of laundry that needs to be done. I expect you to wash, dry, fold, and put up the clothes. Leave the clothes on the hallway in-tables for when we get home so that we can put our clothes in our room ourselves._


  * _Wash the dishes. We currently do not own a dishwasher, so you will have to do that by hand._


  * _Dust the formal dining room, it hasn't been dusted in awhile._


  * _Sweep the floors and mop, especially the living room and dining room._


  * _Vacuum the carpets._


  * _Clean the bathrooms. There are currently four bathrooms. Two guest bathrooms downstairs, the master bathroom and the upstairs bathroom. The cleaning supplies are in the supply closet near the mudroom._


  * _Water the indoor plants._


  * _Feed and water the basilisks, make sure not to look them in the eye, I don't want you turning to stone on the first day. The food is in the outdoor shed._


  * _Feed and water Calibri._


  * _Shovel the front path of snow. You will find supplies in the outdoor shed._


  * _By now, it will be nearing when we come home—8:00 p.m., I expect dinner to be made and ready for us. I have a multitude of cook books you can borrow if you need inspiration._



_Failure to comply to all of my demands will result in a punishment chosen by my brother. Now get to work!_

Frisk blinked down at the letter. That was a lot...but she was sure she could get it done. Especially if she multitasked. With the threat of Sans hanging over her, she would work her ass off to finish the list on time. Besides, the house wasn't _that_ filthy. Still...some of the things on the list worried her. What if she wouldn't be able to vacuum because a monster vacuum would be too big for her? She'd just have to… find a way. 

She would make herself a small snack first. Especially since she really was starving. Standing in the kitchen quickly reminded her just how hungry she really was. Her stomach was aching. 

Frisk rummaged through the pantry and found a box of cereal. _Temmie Flakes_ . With a shrug, she made herself a bowl and scarfed it down. Frisk checked the clock above the stove. It had just turned six fifty-five. _If I start now I'm sure I could have some free time before the brothers come home…_ She'd start the load of laundry first, then start dusting and vacuuming while the washer and dryer went through their cycles. 

With a firm nod she began to work. She hummed soft songs in her native tongue as she took the piles of dirty clothes from the hamper and started the first load in the washer. She found that most of the furniture wasn't as big as the furniture in Toriel's house. Her fear over the vacuum was never realized. The vacuum was a bit big, but she made it work. Lugging the thing around however was another thing. She could feel Arial's silver eyes watching her with tender curiosity as she worked. Something about the non-hostile presence was comforting to Frisk. 

Flowey eventually joined her after she took the nicely folded clothes upstairs. By then it was eight a.m. They worked together to dust. It was the dusting that started to drag on time. Every picture frame, furniture, and of course the dining room. It wasn't long before she had familiarized herself with the house. She learned very quickly just how many rooms were locked. She tried not to think of what could be hiding in those locked rooms. 

The dining room felt like it hadn't been used in centuries. It was kept in tip top shape, but covered in dust. By the time she was through with it, it literally sparkled. 

"Good job!" Said Flowey. The two shared a high five before Frisk recounted what she needed to do. 

"Dishes." 

"I'll dry, you wash," said Flowey, and Frisk smiled at the knowledge she had someone to help her. Ten o'clock; dusting and dishes had been finished. Frisk's fingers were wrinkled from the water. She was tired. She really was exhausted. 

Eventually she had to use the bathroom, so she sat awkwardly in one of the guest bathrooms. As she sat on the toilet, she imagined the glaring red eyes of Sans the Skeleton. She shuddered at the thought and quickly finished her business. 

Flowey rejoined her when they began to clean the bathrooms. The guest bathrooms were easy enough. Sweep, scrub the sinks, the toilets, bleach the floors, wipe down the mirrors. 

Frisk was surprised to figure out that Papyrus did not inhabit the master bedroom. In fact, it was just as preserved as the formal dining room. Most of what would make a bed room _personal_ however had been removed. It was as if a bad memory had been redacted and all that remained was the furniture too big to take apart and stash away. 

The master bathroom was a little tougher to clean, but only because there was _more_ to clean. Such as a Jacuzzi tub and walk in shower. It took a good hour to scrub and polish the whole thing. By the time she was finished, it was one o'clock in the afternoon and her stomach was protesting. 

"I think my body is going to go on strike if I don't get some food in my system," murmured Frisk as she wobbled downstairs. She rummaged through the refrigerator and found some cheese and meat. In the pantry was a loaf of bread; she made a sandwich. 

"I know, I'm quite the chef," she muttered. Flowey chuckled wryly. 

"I'm glad you're finding humor in being a slave," he grunted. She sighed. 

"Honestly...it's one of the better deals I've had in life. _Ma vie n'a pas été facile,"_ she admitted as she wolfed her sandwich down. 

"That's really concerning… what was your life like on the surface?" Asked Flowey. Frisk faltered, a frown growing on her face. She shook her head and took the last bite.

"Let's not dwell on the past," she said as she wiped her hands and the table off. As she threw away the napkin, she turned back to the list. Plants. 

"Ah, _Enfin, facile_ ," she mused as she got a pitcher and filled it with water. 

Watering the plants didn't take long. One forty-five. Now for the part she was dreading. Feeding the basilisks, the Cockatrice and henatrices that Papyrus had spoken of. The note that she couldn't look them in the eye and risk being turned to stone was like a constant reminder of just how fragile she was in this world. 

"Should I have on a blindfold?" She murmured to herself as she grabbed one of the coats in the mudroom and made her way outside. As she stepped out onto the porch a thought struck her. She could run… she could just make a break for it and go. _Where would I even go? Be smart for once._ She thought to herself. She had a plan. She just needed time. She just needed to give herself time. She wasn't stupid. 

Slowly she dragged her eyes away from the forest and made her way to the shed. The outside of the skeleton house was also extremely grand. It was a huge brick and spruce home, with a large chimney that sighed out puffs of smoke. It rose out of the winter wonderland surrounding it and offered a cozy… safe fortress of warmth. If it had belonged to literally anyone else...it might have felt like home. It certainly reminded her of the old home she had shared with her family before she became restless for adventure. _They really do have a beautiful home…_ she thought as she trekked to the shed. Her nose was pinched with red from the cold. 

_"Je ferais mieux de ne pas penser à ça."_ Her breath came out in puffs of frost. She didn't want to think of her past. Looking back at the list of mistakes she had made that led her to this exact moment was far too painful. 

She fought with the door before it finally budged and she stumbled into the shed. As promised, all the tools and sacks of food were there. There was a large measuring cup that she assumed was for the basilisks. With that in mind, she scooped the feed into the cup and made her way to a charming chicken coop. 

_"Ne sont-ils pas mignons,"_ she murmured to herself. The cockatrices were a bit larger than a normal chicken, and they hadn't noticed her yet. She studied them at a safe distance. They definitely looked like chickens, and then there was a glaring _problem._ Their undersides were reptilian and their clucks were intertwined with a snake like hiss. Their wings were like miniature dragon wings. As they looked up, Flowey quickly shielded her eyes. 

The rooster of the Cockatrice let out a sizzling hiss and ran up to the chicken wire fence with a vengeance. Frisk cursed in French and stumbled back, making sure not to spill the feed. 

"Careful!" Scolded Flowey. She sighed as the Cockatrice continued to hiss at her with an insurmountable rage. How was she going to do this? She couldn't remember the last time she took care of chickens. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as Flowey summoned his magic and shot a pellet at the ground. The cockatrice let out a scared wail and bolted away from her. 

"Alright you can go in. Here, the gate is right here, let me guide you. Their magic doesn't have any affect on me," explained Flowey. He guided her to the gate and she squeezed inside so as not to let any of the basilisks out. 

_"c'est ridicule,"_ Frisk grumbled under her breath. _Wait, why is Flowey not affected?_ She voiced her thoughts as he guided her to the coop. 

"Well… um, let's just say -nope, over there- I don't have a regular monster soul -alright that's good.- So they can't turn me to stone." Frisk dumped the bucket, letting the feed spill out. The basilisks rushed her to get to the feed and she stumbled away. Once out of their reach, she turned her attention back to Flowey. 

"Should I be worried about you?" She asked. Flowey didn't answer for a moment as he guided her to a water hose and helped her turn it on. 

"No, no. I still… I still _have_ a soul… just not one they understand I guess," he said, before turning her in the direction of the watering buckets. Water sputtered out and she waited as they began to fill. She could hear the angry hisses of the cockatrice as it paced near her. Flowey eyed it, daring it to attack his friend. 

Once the buckets were full, Frisk made her way out. Finally, when her back was turned to the dangerous farm animals, Flowey uncovered her eyes. She wiped her nose, which was stinging from the cold, and let out a breath. What time was it? She still had to shovel the walkway and feed and water their horse. 

With a tired sigh, she started towards the front of the house. 

"This looks familiar," she said with a hint of irony. Flowey chuckled wryly and shook his head. 

"That didn't work out too well, now did it?" He mumbled. She nodded along and made her way to a makeshift stable that was fashioned out of a three car garage. There was a large paddock for the horse to romp in, but she supposed that currently, it was inside. 

"I didn't know I would be working for the bourgeoisie," she grunted as she slid the garage door open. It had been worked into a traditional stable, with bales of hay, tack and a fence. She glanced up and gasped when she saw the beast Papyrus had been so dear about. It was a magnificent beast at least sixteen hands tall, with a large gilded horn rising from its head. It was pitch black and had a thick lion's mane and goat's beard; she was sure she could see stars in it. Its gilded, cloven hooves pawed at the ground and its black, lion-like tail swished in anticipation. As she stared into Calibri's silver eyes, she began to tear up at the beauty. 

Overcome by the unicorn's majesty, she began to sob and she stumbled back. It cocked its head in curiosity and studied her. Frisk's soul began to burn and glow from within her chest and those silver eyes almost seemed to be piercing right through her and studying the contents of her soul. Judging her for all she was worth. 

Tears slipped down her cheeks as it coaxed her to stand up. She wasn't worthy of being in this creature's presence. She wasn't pure, and being near him was reminding her just how dirty she was. 

Calibri neighed and shook his mane, glittering stars seeming to fall from it. 

"Right. Food." She got to work and filled the feeding troughs. Once she was done, she found herself lingering just a while longer. Despite how unworthy she felt, there was also an indescribable calmness that had fallen over her. Flowey's voice was a buzz as she slid down the wall and stared at the unicorn. 

"Frisk...Frisk! We've been here for forever! If we stay here any longer we won't finish the list!" Frisk started at Flowey's shout and she stumbled back up to her feet. The unicorn had fallen into a deep slumber and she gasped when she realized she must've dozed off as well. 

_"Merde!"_ She exclaimed as she shot out from the stable and sprinted to the shed to get the snow shovel. She slid on the ice of the driveway and almost fell onto her ass. She regained her balance and began to work at the pathway. 

"How much does he want me to shovel? Is it just the walkway?" She murmured to herself. She didn't want to do a half-assed job, so she decided that she'd shovel down the walkway until the circle drive. She worked for two hours struggling with the ice and snow, and she was freezing by the end of it. The light was starting to dim. Truly, the light was always looking as if it were dimming, but now it was winking out. She suspected it must've been at least six o'clock, if she went off the time she had checked on the clock before coming outside. She couldn't exactly trust the strange artificial sun. 

Frisk needed to get started on dinner. She put up the shovel and raced inside. She was both freezing, and sweaty. She peeled off her jacket and boots, which were now encrusted in mud and snow and hung them in the mudroom. She jogged into the kitchen and checked the time. She was right. Six fifteen. Dinner would be ready on time. 

Would she be allowed to eat it? _Whatever, just get started._ She looked in the fridge and pantry and began gathering ingredients. She had to cook for Damian too, this wasn't new to her at all. As she looked through the catalogue of cookbooks that Papyrus owned, she noticed a common theme. _Italian food._

"Well isn't that ironic?" She murmured. Flowey tilted his head. 

"What?" He asked. Frisk shook her head and began to leaf through one of the books. There were several book marked pages, and she chose from one of them. Stuffed shells. _Alright then._

Cooking was calming in a way. She had a love for it, not really the time limit, or the fact it wasn't exactly for her, but she still found a small joy in the action. The smells wafting through the kitchen, the warmth in the oven. When she put the shells in, she began setting the informal dining room. 

"You're a really good cook. Where did you learn?" asked Flowey. Frisk shrugged. 

"You just kind of figure it out. When I was married—"

"—You were married?" Asked Flowey with a hint of shock on his face. Frisk frowned and her eyes darkened at the reminder. 

"I technically still am… legally. But I mean, I think when your husband orders your death and throws you into the Underworld, legalities kind of lose meaning… uh… it was a mistake. I'll be honest, those were the worst three years of my life," she said, her voice getting more and more quiet. She didn't know if she wanted to talk about her past. Maybe it would be best to get all of it off her chest. She didn't think she had fully processed what had happened to make her wind up here. 

"That is a lot to unpack...Are you ok?" Asked Flowey after a moment of silence. Frisk chuckled wryly and looked at the clock. Her eyes widened when she realized it was eight o'clock. Papyrus and Sans would be home any minute! 

"Um, it is a lot to unpack. I guess I come with a lot of baggage," she said as she checked the food. It was practically ready and she shivered with pleasure at that knowledge and got an oven mit. _How would a skeleton even eat anyway?_

"Anyway… my ex husband was a really traditional person and he liked for me to stay home and take care of the house while he... _worked._ So I have a bit of practice with being a housewife I guess." She shuddered as she said that. She wanted so desperately to be free of that and live for herself. She'd make it. 

"We arrested that Snowdrake Comedian today." The muffled voice of Papyrus alerted Frisk to his presence and she felt a spike of adrenaline enter her. Is this what cooking show contestants felt as the timer counted down? 

"Why the fuck—what, Asgore can't handle some political satire?" She rushed about the kitchen to get the last remaining things she needed as she heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow. 

"Good riddance. His humor was rather distasteful anyway… oh look, the driveway was shovelled." Their voices were getting louder, and her heart was racing. 

As soon as she put the food on the table, the front door slammed open and she gave a squeak of surprise. 

"HUMAN! WE'RE HOME!" Shouted Papyrus. Frisk smoothed out her sweater, fluffed her hair out of habit and made her way to the front of the house. Sans shoved past her and jogged upstairs without even saying hello. She didn't care. Better he not acknowledge her presence than say something menacing. Papyrus smiled when he saw her and sniffed in. 

"It smells delightful! Have you done everything I asked?" Frisk nodded frantically and followed him as he went through the house to inspect her handiwork. 

"I must say, Human, you have made the house sparkle. I was not expecting this level of cleanliness," he said as he ran his finger along a table. Completely dustless. He grinned and followed his nose to the dining room. Frisk smiled awkwardly as he stared skeptically down at the stuffed shells. 

"Sans! Get your pathetic ass down here! Dinner is ready!" Barked Papyrus. Frisk heard a thump from upstairs and she flinched. _Sans? I need to get out of here._

"Um, so…my work is done now… so I guess I'll go upstairs and get out of your way," she murmured. She looked down at the shells and then at Flowey who was gesturing they leave as soon as possible. 

"Well, what's this?" Frisk gasped as she heard Sans's voice right behind her. Where did he come from? She hadn't heard him come down. _Teleportation...right._ She thought bitterly. 

Sans burst out laughing at her shock and pushed her aside. The brothers both went for the meal; Papyrus smacked Sans's hand away as he dished out his plate. Frisk slowly crept away, they weren't paying attention to her so she could make a break for her room. 

Her feet ached and she really needed to sit down. Was she going to have to do this every day? She felt a small ounce of dread filling her. Neither Papyrus, nor Sans stopped her, so she slowly drifted away towards the stairs. 

It was only until she was walking down the hall to her room when she heard a creak. She turned around and flinched when she saw Sans. He grinned at her, his plate of food in hand. His eyes rolled over her and she shrunk under his gaze. Never had she ever felt so uncomfortable around someone. The way his fanged grin leered at her, threatening to rip her to pieces. He was a shark and she was just a minnow. 

He reached out to an in-table and knocked over a vase. She flinched as it thudded on the floor, and she slowly realized just what he was doing. She stared up at him with wide eyes as he leaned forward. 

"Pick it up," he demanded in a soft, menacing voice. Flowey glared up at Sans, but held his tongue for Frisk's sake. She looked down at the vase, and then back up at him with a scowl. She wanted to tell him no. Spit on him. Turn away. Slam her door. Flip him off. Stand up for herself… 

He was still grinning at her, and she swallowed her dignity. She didn't do any of those things. Slowly, she stooped down and grabbed the vase. She gathered the decorative feathers and stuffed them back inside as she replaced the vase on the table. _That bastard. Does he really think he can just do this? … I guess he can. I'm basically their slave now. What a nightmare. Oh God… what am I going to do?_

Sans hummed in delight and gave her another lingering stare. Slowly, he nodded his head, a sort of smug satisfaction about himself as he turned away. She glared at him. 

"Papyrus may act like he's in charge, but at the end of the day… I'm the guy that might just kill ya," he said as he got to his door. He winked at her before he slipped in and shut the door behind him. Left alone, she gasped for breath, as if there had been a pressure on her chest and the weight had finally been removed. She staggered and leaned against the wall for balance. 

Flowey ushered her to her room and once the door was closed, Frisk sunk to the floor. Her eyes welled the more she thought about it. What he had done, of course, wasn't extremely awful. It's not like he had assaulted her, but it was the message behind it that shook her core. He could do anything. She was living under his roof. 

_"quel cauchemar,"_ she whispered as a fat tear rolled down her cheek. Flowey brushed it off. 

"You're strong Frisk… I know that by looking at you. You can fight back. You have something that none of them have," he murmured as she stumbled tiredly to her bed. 

"And what's that?" She scoffed. Flowey gazed at her with a kind of child-like admiration. 

"Determination," he said. Frisk glanced at him and smiled softly. 

"I don't know why you're so nice to me," she said after a moment. Flowey shrugged and gazed out from the window as the light slipped from the horizon and the underground was plunged into darkness. 

"I don't know why you think everyone should be mean to you… what happened to you? Seriously… I mean… we all have baggage don't we? I'll share some with you if you share some with me," he said. Frisk eyed him. 

_"Je suppose que tu as raison..._ Ok. You first though. I realize we really don't know much about each other," she said. Flowey chuckled wryly and nodded. 

"I guess not… alright, me first…" he paused as of picking and choosing what he wanted to say. His eyes lit up as he grasped an idea, and then darkened again when he mentally put it back on the shelf. He turned back to her and gave a weak smile. 

"I had an adopted sister who…poisoned herself… and I wasn't always a flower," he quietly admitted. That rose more questions than they answered. She raised a curious brow but he didn't reveal any more. _Guess it's my turn then._ She swallowed back a lump in her throat. What was mild enough to tell? She wanted to get something off her chest. She wanted to talk to someone who understood. Flowey may not have understood this… but he certainly didn't seem like the kind to tell her to fuck off and deal with it herself. With a resolved sigh, she turned to Flowey. 

"I had a miscarriage… when I was seventeen," she whispered. Flowey's beady eyes widened at the news. _Maybe I should've started with something lighter…_

"That must've been awful," he said. She nodded slowly and brushed her eyes. 

"My life hasn't exactly been… the best," she said. Flowey studied her. 

"It definitely seems that way. Neither was mine. Well… it was ok when I was a little kid. Before I was a flower," he said. Frisk nodded along, furrowing her brow with a hint of confusion. She still didn't understand that, but again, Flowey provided no explanation. 

"My childhood was ok… it wasn't the best. I made a lot of mistakes. I would say… I'm being punished for them now." Flowey frowned at this. 

"That's a little unfair. It's not like you killed anyone," he spat. Frisk froze, her face paling. Flowey noticed the reaction and he tilted his head curiously. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. 

"Have you...killed someone?" He asked. Frisk shook her head and looked away. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to tell the truth either. 

"I think that's enough show and tell… Flowey, what am I going to do about Sans? What does he want?" She asked to change the subject. Flowey eyed her warily, but he went along with it. He turned to the door and pursed his lips in thought. 

"I don't know. I've never known what he wanted. Maybe… for someone to be scared of him," he said. Frisk scoffed and brushed her bangs from her face. He had everyone terrified of him anyway, why would he need one more person scared of him? Of course, the glaring possibility that most men were the same and he was just like Damian. It was all about power to him. He wanted to control.

"How do I fight that? I can't be controlled by him. I have to have… _something."_ She said firmly as she gripped the duvet. Some part of her was scared Sans would appear in her room like some kind of ghost at the mention of his name. _Red glaring eyes._ She shivered.

"Do things he wouldn't expect you to… he expects you to cower in fear before him, smile at him instead. _Or spit in his face like he deserves."_ Frisk laughed nervously at the sight of his strange, distorted face warping into an evil little thing at his words. Perhaps he did have the right idea. 

"Perhaps you're right… I'm going to try and wake up earlier than Papyrus. I have a plan Flowey. You know that right?" She asked. Flowey glanced at her and nodded hesitantly. 

"Of course I know you have a plan. I trust you, and I'm here for you always. We can get through this together," he said softly. She nodded and let her eyes close. A soft smile twitched at her lips. Finally she could get some sleep. Her day had been long and stressful. She'd need the rest, especially if she was going to go with the plan she had in mind. She wasn't going to let Sans control her like she had let Claude and Damian control her. She wasn't going to be a victim anymore. She was _sick_ of being a victim. She was _sick_ of having so many sob stories. She wanted to be in control. 

_I'm going to get the one up on that bastard. I'm going to do something for me. Maybe...maybe take a bath._

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow he really did that. What a deplorable. I wrote that. Tsk tsk. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was a bit slower than the usual as Frisk gets into a routine. Things will pick back up with the next two chapters. 
> 
> Speaking of which, up next: We get to look into the day in the life of Sans the Skeleton...and then some. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter please don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment to show your appreciation!


	9. Frederick Drake

Chapter Nine: Frederick Drake

* * *

Sans lay awake in his bed as he so often did. He glanced over at the glaring red numbers on his clock. It was five a.m. _Fuck me I guess._ He thought bitterly. Papyrus would be awake in about an hour. He didn't want to go to work today. _You never want to go to work._ That was true. 

He could never go to sleep, and then when at work, exhaustion caught up with him and he ended up falling asleep on the job. Papyrus would yell at him. The cycle would start over. 

He sighed and rolled out of bed. No use lying down when nothing was going to happen. He opened his window and climbed out to sit on the roof. The cockatrice would croak soon, but for now… it was silent. He liked to enjoy the silence just before dawn. When the world held its breath. 

Sans looked up into the artificial sky, the wishing stones glowing like stars. His grin softened as he stared up. Maybe if he stared long enough the sky would become real. The underground would crumble away and he could finally leave this hell behind. Hope was for idiots though, and there wasn't any hope left down here that they'd ever make it out.

The rooster crowed and he knew it was time to return to reality. Besides, he knew little Frenchie would be up and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to unnerve her. She was so amusing. The way her little lips trembled and pursed when he was around, the way her little body tensed and her big, brown eyes glared up at him. He really couldn't blame Papyrus for being so enraptured by her. She was precious. Sugary. _She must've wanted to slap me after yesterday._ That would've been interesting. 

"Five, four...three...two… _one,"_ he murmured as he climbed back into his bedroom. Just as he suspected, Papyrus's bedroom door slammed open and Sans grunted with smug satisfaction at his correct predictions. He had lived with Papyrus for so long; he knew him like the back of his hand. But what was Frisk doing? Probably groaning in her bed and wishing for some extra minutes. He chuckled at the thought. 

He shuffled about his room as he picked through dirty clothes. The pile of clean clothes the human had washed last night were still sitting on his bed. Maybe he should make her clean his room. God knows he could use it, and he'd _never_ do it himself. 

As he pulled on his jacket, he stepped out the door. A smell hit him and he furrowed his brow. Coffee? 

"Oh! Human! You're already awake!" Exclaimed Papyrus from downstairs. Sans glanced down the hall to see her door ajar. 

"Huh…" he grunted. Sans lumbered downstairs with a growing curiosity. 

"I'm impressed. Usually no one can keep up with my greatness, yet here you are! You've even made breakfast," said Papyrus as Sans rounded the corner into the kitchen. There she was, in that loose sweater dress, her dark, wispy hair curtaining her face. 

Sans leaned against the wall and watched as she plated Papyrus some eggs and bacon. He grinned maliciously when she caught him in her eyes. She grinned back, which surprised him. That was new. 

"Good morning sir… I made you some coffee, although… I didn't know how you like it, so it's just black, is that ok?" She asked in that sugary voice. She was playing at something. He eyed her as she hesitantly brought him a mug of joe. 

"How precious," he grunted. He didn't trust it for a second. 

"Don't worry sir, it's just coffee," she said. A small smirk pulled at her lips and she brought the cup to her lips and sipped, before shoving it into his hands. _Well that was interesting…_ he thought. He glared down at the coffee mug and then back at the woman as she turned away. Right in front of Papyrus. Clever little girl. 

Papyrus of course, just gazed happily after her as he ate his breakfast. _What an idiot,_ he thought bitterly as he glared at her. Sans begrudgingly drank the coffee because, well… she _did_ make it, which spared him the trouble of making it himself and that's what she was for. Right? Right. He was also dead tired and this was bound to wake him up. She glanced back over her shoulder at him as she picked up the list Papyrus had written out for her last night. Sans gave her a wink and she quickly looked away as if he was the essence of sin. She'd never be over her fear of him, no matter how weirdly tough she tried to act. That thought sent a pleasured shiver down his spine and he grunted. 

"Well when you wanna stop playing house with the human, I'll be waiting outside," grunted Sans to his brother when he had finally had enough. Papyrus growled at him and made a move to slap the back of his head, but Sans ducked, having expected it coming a mile away. He heard Frisk giggle softly and his cruel grin almost softened. Almost. 

As Sans and Papyrus stepped out into the crisp morning air, he let himself groan. 

"I can't fuckin believe this. She's gettin' to ya, Pap. You're goin' soft," he grunted as they walked down the drive. Papyrus scoffed at his older brother. 

"Sans, in no way am I going _soft._ I've only just found someone who's met my standards and tenacity. Maybe I'd treat you with a bit more kindness if you actually pulled your weight. As of now the human is more useful than you are," he spat. Sans bared his teeth at the insult. _Fuckin ungrateful bastard._

"That's such bullshit and you know it. Face it Paps, she's manipulatin' ya; and once she has what she wants, she'll be gone. You think she _wants_ to be here? What… to live as the Great and terrible Papyrus's slave? Fuck no. She has an agenda, and you're eatin' right outta her palm," he growled. Papyrus rolled his eyes. 

"You and I both know the moment she tries to pull something, I would show no mercy. For now, she keeps our house sparkling and makes us coffee in the morning like an obedient little servant. So stop complaining and enjoy the fact I'm not nagging at _you_ to do chores every second. Agenda or not, she is useful," he said. Sans glared ahead of him. He just didn't want to see his brother get used. Sans didn't want to be manipulated. He didn't want to be under her charms. 

"Fine…what are you making her do today?" He asked. Papyrus shrugged. 

"She did such a good job yesterday that I figured giving her such a long list would be a bit redundant. So, I just made her care for the animals and plants, do laundry, clean the dishes and then cook us dinner," he said. Sans glanced back at the house and narrowed his eyes. He knew she was up to something, and he wasn't about to let her get away with her schemes. 

  
  


⁂

"Sans, word around the dog house that Papyrus got laid. Know anyfin'?" Said Doug as the two sat in the border patrol office. Sans glanced back at Doug with a scowl. What an absurd rumor. 

"No. Why would that even be a possibility? He actin' funny?" Asked Sans. Doug grunted. 

"Dakota says he has a lightness to him or sumfin' like that. I take the word of a married man… or is he just happy to have caught a human? Y'know… like the one Garg and Lez chased down the otha' night." He was baiting him then. Sans rolled his eyes. Like he was going to give away his brother like that. 

"This bullshit again. If you _must_ know why Papyrus has been so...happy, I guess, it's because we got a new maid and the house is finally clean. There," he said. Doug narrowed his clouded eyes. 

"Right. Like any maid would work for the two of you," he spat. Sans twitched and clenched his hand into a fist. 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He asked. Doug glared across at him, but said no more. He turned to a cigar and flicked his lighter until smoke wafted from the end. The two sat in tense silence as Sans processed what Doug had said. 

_-code ice, we have a loose suspect trying to jump-_ the voice of Dorothy crackled through the speaker and both Doug and Sans perked up. _Finally some action_ , thought Sans as he zipped up his jacket and Doug grabbed his sword. Sans flicked the alarm on and the fence outside buzzed with electricity, a gate was lowered as red lights flashed. 

"Let's go mince some meat," growled Doug. Sans grinned at him as they approached the door. 

"If you can keep up," he said as red mist surrounded him. Doug narrowed his eyes at him, but before he could retaliate, Sans was gone. 

"Course they'd partner me wif' one of the only, bloody reapas'," he growled as he stomped off into the woods alone. 

⁂

He really shouldn't have been teleporting when he was this exhausted, but the coffee would kick in eventually and he knew his limits. 

The dogs had started the chase, and he could already hear Lez's hellish, piercing, howls. The fugitive had already crossed the fence then. They needed to get that broken wire fixed. Sans's eye flared with red fire as he searched for a soul in reach. A flash of blue in the woods and he knew he'd found his mark. _Stupid bitch,_ he thought triumphantly.

The fugitive was still too far away to reel in, but now that Sans knew where he was, he was dead meat. An uproar of barks and snarls signaled him and he was there in a puff of smoke. 

As he stepped out from the red smoke that surrounded him once more, he watched as Lez' wrestled with a Snowdrake monster. A mess of teeth, fur and feathers. Dakota and Doug raced to the scene. The large white lycan, which towered over the smaller, blind werewolf, bared his battle axe. 

"You've made a big mistake," he snarled. When the dogs caught sight of Sans, they straightened out. Lez' bit down on the Snowdrake's neck and tossed him to the feet of the skeleton. The Snowdrake was a pitiful avian monster. This particular Snowdrake had been arrested just yesterday for treason. He had been caught staying in Snowed Inn and there had been hell to pay. Sans scowled and summoned a bone into his hand as the fugitive cowered before him. 

"Ya know, Freddy, I ain't got nothin' against ya. I thought you were hilarious. I loved your jokes but…" he stooped down to Frederick's level and brushed the silvery, snowflake shaped tufts of feathers away from his eyes with the bone. He wanted to see his fear. 

"This ain't the United States of fuckin America… this is Hell, and Satan don't like it too much when ya talk shit about him," he spat. Fred yelped as Sans's bone crashed against his face. 

Sans kicked him onto his back and brought the bone down onto Fred's stomach. The comedian began to cough up dust. 

"Please, Mr. Gaster—" 

"What did you call me?" Sans's eyes went black at the name. Fred's eyes widened as he realized he had made a terrible mistake. 

"I didn't mean it! It was an accident! Please, don't go after my family, they have no crime to their names," begged Fred as he tried to crawl away from Sans. Smoke began to waft from his black eyes, until it was pouring out. Red smoke. 

The dogs whined and ducked away from his point of vision. Sans stood stock still as red smoke poured out of his eye. _That name_. He hadn't heard that name in a long time. Memories flooded his mind and he glared at the puny, insignificant joker groveling before him. He'd wipe him off the face of the Earth. He'd make these woods ashen with the dust he'd spill from this fucker. 

Sans stalked towards the Drake as he tried to make his last attempts at fighting back. Shards of ice like feathers flew at Sans, but he merely knocked them away with the bone in his hand. A shadow began to warp behind him and the red smoke that was pouring out of his eye began to accumulate. 

Dakota looked down as his radio went off. _-Apprehend Freddy Drake, do not kill. Public execution in order on the 20th-_

"Shit," he growled. 

"Get him away from the reaper," he ordered his pack. The dogs obeyed their alpha without hesitation and bounded into the clearing. As Lez launched himself at Freddy, Sans held up his hand, his eyes crackling with red fire. The hellhound was caught mid-air, his soul glowing blue through his ribs as he dangled helplessly. Lez went crashing into a tree, the wood cracking beneath the weight. 

Doug threw himself at Sans, trying to snap him out of the infuriated trance. A pale blue bone shot through the ground and into Fred's soul, trapping him in place. The Snowdrake gasped as he stood stock still, the bone penetrating through him. If he even moved an inch he was nothing but dust. Fred gasped for air, filled with icy pain. Sans grabbed Doug by the neck and slammed him into the ground without any effort, his eyes still trained on the Snowdrake. 

Sans shoved Dakota away, and the blue bone shattered at the flick of his wrist. He grabbed Fred by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him into the air. The red mist swirled away to reveal a hulking dragon skull behind him; large, toothy jaw agape. Sans's eye flared, and the dragon's eye followed suit. This fucker would be dead, he'd make sure he'd be dead. 

Just as the dragon was about to unleash a burst of energy, another beam of light cut through the woods and shot the Dragon. Sans snarled in pain at the violent disruption of his magic and stumbled back. His soul turned blue and he wheezed as he was dragged away from Fred. 

The puff of a horse's breath alerted all the sentries to the presence of their commanding officer and everyone's heart stilled. 

Papyrus swung out from his saddle, his eyes glowing an eerie orange red. The same color of smoke drifted away on the wind, taking the shadow of a dragon skull away with it. 

Sans shot up, his headspace regained now that his brother was there to set him straight. He snarled and staggered to his feet. 

"My brother? Losing his temper? How unheard of," growled Papyrus quietly. Sans grinned sheepishly, but there was no amusement in his eyes. Oh he would enjoy this particular hanging. Dakota dragged Freddy to his feet. Papyrus glanced at the comedian and grunted. 

"My men ought to have a little fun before the hanging, shouldn't they?" He said. The dogs perked up and Lez limped away from the tree to join in. Dakota shoved the drake to his knees and Lez pounced onto him. 

Sans stepped to join the fun but Papyrus put out a hand to stop him. He got the memo and the two skeletons watched as the dogs began to tear into Fred's flesh. His agonized cries filled the woods as they went at him. Dakota chopped off one of his silvery-blue wings and dust puffed out from the severed limb. 

When Papyrus was satisfied, he gave a curt whistle and Dakota barked at his pack to get back in line. Doug dragged Fred up to his feet, and by then he could hardly stand and dust covered his body. He let out a weak moan of pain as he was chained to Papyrus's steed. 

"Off to the gallows with this one," grunted Papyrus and Sans eyed the Snowdrake as he was dragged away. 

"Now back to work!" Sans glanced at the dogs as they stared warily at him. 

"What are you lookin' at? Get back to your posts," he growled, before he turned away. He didn't want to go back to his station. Not after what had just happened. He needed to cool down. He… he needed to go to Grillby's. That would certainly make him feel better. _Oh shit, but Papyrus will be in town to lock up Fred…no way am I letting him catch me at Grillbs. I'll go after my shift is over then_ , he reasoned. He needed to get out of here and… think. Or maybe just yell and punch something. He needed a nap. He could sleep off this nightmare. 

Red smoke surrounded him and he stepped through. As it cleared, he found himself back in the sanctuary of his home. Of course, not all of it was a sanctuary and memories would always have a habit of running through his head, but that's what drinking was for. 

As he walked through the door, he heard the soft singing of the Frenchie. She wasn't expecting him back right now. He closed the door softly behind him so she wouldn't hear him. Sans was exhausted and angry. He could fall asleep right here. The use of his magic today was wearing on him and he could practically feel it dragging at him. His head was buzzing and it ached something fierce. He needed more coffee. What time was it? 

He crept down the hallway. Where was she? Not in the kitchen. Where was that singing coming from? It was currently twelve in the afternoon. He grunted. She didn't expect him to be back for another four hours. 

He flexed his fists. It would be so easy to hurt her right now. He was pissed off and needed the release. He could hit her, slam her head into the wall… that would get his pent up anger out nicely. She'd probably go crying to his brother though. Papyrus liked her right now…but what if she broke one of his rules? He grinned as a thought came to him. Papyrus didn't know he was here… neither did Frisk. 

_Meow…_ Sans flinched as he looked up to see shadows and the two silver eyes of Arial glaring down at him, _judging_ him.

"Don't look at me like that." Sans wagged his finger at the shadow creature. Her wispy tail flicked in annoyance and she growled low at him. Sans scoffed and turned away to go upstairs. He didn't need Arial's judgement. 

Frisk's soft singing floated from the guest bathroom. He leaned against the wall as he listened. The soft splash of water and the scent of lavender made it clear that she was enjoying the luxuries of his home. How interesting. Just past that thin door was a drawn bath and a gorgeous, trembling woman. He wondered for a moment just what she looked like under those big sweaters she wore. 

_Which means she is preoccupied. Get on with it,_ he thought in annoyance at himself. Sans crept down the hall to Papyrus's room. He glanced behind his shoulder and flinched when he saw Arial sitting in the corner. She was just watching him. _It's a good thing Shades don't talk. Let's keep this between us, alright sweets?_ He grinned and turned back to the door. Slowly, he turned the knob and slid it open. Just a crack. Nothing she would notice, but he knew that Papyrus would. 

Oh he was going to be so pissed. Then that stupid enchantment she had over him would be shattered and Sans would get to have his way with her. He grinned sadistically as he turned away and slunk downstairs. Now he just had to be patient; patience was probably the only virtue Sans had. He could play the long game, as long as he came out on top and the cards folded in his favor. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Then he got an idea! An awful idea!  
> The Skeleton got a wonderful, awful idea! God...he just gets worse...and that's what's fun to write Soo...you know how it is. 
> 
> Up next: the cards may or may not fold in Sans's favor. It's nothing sexual though. We're not there yet. 
> 
> If you like the story please remember to leave a kudos and a comment to show your appreciation. Thank you very much!


	10. Bath

**A/N:**

**WARNING. The content in this chapter gets dark really fast. As I said in the tags there is drowning. This is when that happens. There's not really anything sexual, because that would be rapey. However, there is violence. So read at your own risk. Or should I say...**

**Read at your own _F_ risk... Heh heh.**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Bath

* * *

The cards indeed folded in his favor. Sans sat in the living room, his eyes glued to the TV when Papyrus called for the human. He grinned and got up. He had to see this. 

"Yes sir? Is...something wrong?" He heard Frisk's trembling, honey soaked voice float down to him as he climbed the stairs. His grin only grew wider as he turned the corner to see Papyrus looming over her, the most menacing scowl on his face. The spell was broken. 

" _Is something wrong,_ you ask… I'm going to ask _you_ something, human, and when I do, you're going to answer me truthfully. Because if you lie, you'll be in even more trouble than you currently are in," he hissed. She paled at the words, her eyes darting about the room as confusion filled her. Sans almost felt bad; after all, she really hadn't done anything wrong. Key word _almost._

"Did you go into my room? Yes… or _no?"_ He asked. Frisk's eyes widened and she immediately shook her head. 

"N-no! I didn't go into your room, sir. That was the first rule, I would never disobey you," she said, trying desperately to hold her charms over his brother's head. Sans grinned maliciously. _Spell's broken sweetheart._

"Not _only_ do you break my number one rule, but then you lie about it to my face. You were the only one here all day. I remember closing my door. It was open. The smallest of slivers, but still open thus, which means you knew what you were doing was wrong, and you tried to hide it but alas, you failed," he spat. Frisk stared wide eyed at him as she tried to comprehend what was happening. 

"I'm not… I'm not _lying_ to you Papyrus, I really didn't! I don't know how it was open! I really—please!" She begged. Papyrus waved her away and turned to his older brother, who was standing cooly in the shadows. 

"Sans—"

"—No! No, please Papyrus, you have to believe me, I didn't… don't let him near me," she pleaded. A shiver of excitement shot up Sans's spine. He pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over to them. 

"Yeah, boss?" He asked with a mischievous smirk. Papyrus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

"Not even her second day and she has already overstepped a boundary," he growled. Sans clicked his tongue and shook his head warily. He eyed Frisk, who was glaring at him. 

"Someone oughta teach her a lesson," he purred. Frisk clenched her jaw and shook her head. 

"I don't need to be… this is ridiculous, I didn't go into your room," she whimpered. Papyrus snarled. 

"Stop lying! I don't want to hear it. Sans will deal with you as he sees fit… Sans… go easy on her," he said warily. Frisk's eyes welled up as she realized she was fighting a losing battle. Sans grinned wolfishly at her. He could feel all of his pent up rage from that afternoon spreading through his body. He needed this. 

"Don't worry Paps… it's her first infraction… it'll be like a slap on the wrist," he said, not daring to break his gaze off her. She shuddered as Papyrus growled and stomped downstairs. 

Frisk turned to Sans, knowing that he was, laughable as it seemed, her last resort to reason. 

"Please, Sans… I didn't break a rule, I really didn't," she whimpered as he slowly stalked towards her. She backed up, and Sans could practically hear the thud of her heart. He chuckled low as she tried to reason with him. She must've known how futile the notion was. _A for effort though, I'll give her that._

"Oh… I believe ya, sweetheart," he said with a wicked grin as he advanced on her. Her eyes widened when she realized what he meant by those words. Before she had time to retaliate, he jerked toward her. She gasped as he clasped her arm, red mist surrounding them. He watched as she gagged on his smoke, before they were in the cellar. 

"Oh this place looks familiar," he crooned as he tightened his hold on her. Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to pry her arm away. His eye flared red and he held up his hand. Her soul glowed blue through her chest and he lifted her off the ground just an inch. With her immobilized, he tied her wrists together, before letting her fall to the ground with a thud. 

She stared fearfully up at him as he gazed hungrily down at her. Frisk watched as he meandered over to a tub and turned on the faucet. Water began to pour into the bucket and she immediately knew what he was going to do. How ironic, considering she had just taken a bath that day. 

He wouldn't be threatened by her, and she couldn't fight against his magic. Talking to him in general was futile, anything she could say could be used against her in the future. She could tell he was tired though. 

"You're gonna want to hold still, and I mean it, don't move," he growled as he stomped over to her. He stepped down on her back, and before she could process what he was about to do, a steely-ice like pain shot through her. Her soul burned with cold fire as she gasped. 

" _Shhhh…_ be still, be absolutely still, I don't want to accidentally kill ya," he said with a chuckle. 

_How...considerate of you_ , she thought bitterly as she took bated, pained breaths. It felt like a metal rod had been lodged through her chest. It was agonizing and painless at the same time. 

A panicked sob escaped her. She had to get out of here, but Sans was intent on making her life miserable. 

With a flick of his wrist, the pain subsided and a chalky substance fell over her before dissipating. She gasped for air and choked when she realized he had released her from whatever awful thing he had impaled her with. Magic was terrifyingly unpredictable and she hated it. 

She tried to crawl away from him as he approached, but he snagged her by the hair and yanked her back. She yelped as he practically dragged her to the tub. 

"Don't worry dollface, I know you didn't go into Papyrus's room. Y'see, I was here while you were having some _alone_ time," he whispered as he pulled her up in his arms. Her eyes widened as her suspicions were voiced. She really wasn't safe from him. Even when she did everything that was asked of her, she was still set up to fail. _Alone time?_ She could feel his cold, dry, fingers trail down her neck. His touch sent flashes of darkness through her mind. 

Her face hovered over the water. She could feel him pressing against her, her hair still gripped in his fingers. 

"You like takin' baths?" His breath was hot against her neck and she whimpered. She looked up at him, trying to plead one last time. _Swallow your dignity if you want to live to get out of here._

"Sans," she whispered with trembling lips. He shivered as his name rolled off her lips. She twisted in his arms and craned her head back in a last ditch effort. She didn't know what she was doing. He chuckled darkly. 

"What did I say, sweetheart?" He purred. She shook her head, her thick lashes fluttering against his jaw. 

"Don't do this," she whispered, and she vividly recalled that she had said something exactly like that before Leo had thrown her over the dock. 

Her face was plunged into the water. It slapped her face; wet, cold, and invading. She writhed and struggled, her body pressed against Sans's as he practically drowned her. She tried to hold her breath, and her lungs burst for air. First it burns, then the pressure builds up until the pain grows in your body and you're forced to exhale. Bubbles blistered about Frisk as she was forced to do exactly that. She flailed, but Sans wouldn't let her up. The burning grows more adamant and you can feel the pain start to pound in your chest, your face, your eyes and ears. You're forced to take another breath, but then you'd swallow nothing but water. 

Frisk choked as her lips parted and nostrils flared for oxygen. She kicked, squirmed, flailed, writhed. Anything to free herself; but Sans was stronger. She was reminded just how frail a human was in a monsters world. How frail a woman is in a man's world. She began to scream, her voice strangled by water. She swallowed mouthfuls of water, and her lungs were bursting. She needed to choke and breath. 

A thousand panicked thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to control herself, but one thought was much louder than the others. _This is how I die!_

Just as she was sure she was going to die, Sans pulled her back out. She gasped for air, and the burning in her lungs was immediately quenched with precious oxygen. She gulped down air as if she were a dehydrated desert castaway just given water. Then she choked and sputtered, tears streaming down her face. 

"Your charms won't work on me," he growled. Her moment of respite was short-lived and she was plunged once more into the tub. 

⁂

Her torture went on like that three more times before he finally dragged her away and tossed her to the ground. She gasped for air as she lay on the floor. She felt like a drowned dish towel. An hour of that was enough to make her wish he would've just killed her. If someone had wanted information out of her, she might've just told them. Tears streamed down her face as her body shook with enraged and terrified tears.

As her breaths slowed, she began to watch him warily as he drained the tub and stood hunched over it. Was he finally through with her? _God let this be it._ Slowly he turned to her, his eyes black as a starless night. He had that ever present grin, but there was no amusement on his face. He gazed down at her with something unreadable etched into his gruesome skull. 

Without another word, Sans untied her and ran his hand through her wet, matted hair. He sighed and dragged her off the ground. She weakly pushed away, but her energy was drained. What took her by surprise was when he lifted her into his arms and carried her out from the cellar. 

She sat, curled, and tense in his arms as he carried her back to her room. _What is going on? What is he doing? What does he want?_ He let her down and opened the door to her room as she shrunk away from him. 

No words were spoken, but she was trapped in that abyssal gaze. She straightened and stood against him, glaring up at him with malice in her eyes. _He_ had done this to her. He had captured her and threatened her, he had scared her, he had gotten her into trouble so he could hurt her and then he had the _audacity_ to carry her up to her room!? _What the fuck. Sick. He is sick_ . She felt a boiling rage swell inside of her and she shoved him. He stood still and silent. When he did nothing she scowled and shoved him again. She _hated_ him. 

He watched as she brushed away her tears and darted into the sanctuary of her room. She slammed the door in his face. Flowey looked up, his eyes wide. 

"Oh, thank goodness, I thought they had killed you! I was so scared," he said, his voice cracking and giving way to tears. She stood still, like a ghost, as tears rolled down her eyes. She was enraged, terrified and _confused._

Flowey tried to speak to her, tried to make sure she was ok, but she didn't respond to him. She shrunk into her mind and turned away, glaring ahead. Flowey curled up at her feet and eventually nodded off. Sleep however, did not fall upon Frisk. Sleep would rarely grace her from that point on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So um... You're probably thinking, "Hey what the fuck?" And you would be right to think that. Didn't I say this would be a slow burn? Yeah, he's going to have to work really hard to redeem himself from that. But now that we've hit rock bottom, we can only go up. 
> 
> Up Next: The aftermath of Frisk's punishment...and the hanging of Frederick Drake. 
> 
> If you enjoy this story, please don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment to show your appreciation!


	11. Fresh Air

Chapter Eleven: Fresh Air 

* * *

A week had passed after that incident. Papyrus didn't talk to her, he only left her grueling lists of chores. When Friday night came and he made Lasagna, she had even tried to stroke his ego and praise his cooking, but it had only put a wedge in his opinion of her. Sometimes he would add even more extraneous tasks that almost seemed Herculean. Sans didn't approach her at all. He watched her a lot when he wasn't working, but he had stopped talking to her all together. In fact, it felt as if she was just another decoration in the house, something to watch and not to interact with. She didn't know which she prefered. 

Finally, Papyrus had sat her down in his office and addressed the issue. 

"I suppose you have learned your lesson." 

"Yes… I'm so sorry, it'll never happen again. I swear." 

"Mm… you still never fail to do excellent work for me. I will let this slide as a first time infraction." 

"Are you… forgiving me?" 

"I never said that! I said I will let it slide. Now get out of my office." 

He had been more agreeable after that. He stopped giving her long lists. 

Then came the day Frisk had never expected. 

"The execution of Frederick Drake is today, Sans. I expect you and the dogs to be there on time," growled Papyrus from the kitchen. Frisk perked up as she was dusting the painting of Papyrus. They were leaving… and the dogs were all going too? _This is my chance!_

"All of the dogs? In Snowden?" Grunted Sans. Papyrus nodded. 

"There will probably be a riot or two. No one will try anything with Gargoruth and Lez'giloth guarding the square during the hanging. It's a precaution, you know this," he explained. Sans nodded, his eyes shifting to the living room as he eyed Frisk. 

"Should we take her with us then?" He mused. Papyrus leaned back in his chair and stared her down as she turned away and innocently kept dusting the furniture. _Take me with them?_

"Take her with us? Why would we do that? Sometimes you can be such an idiot," spat Papyrus. Sans growled under his breath. 

"The hounds are the only thing keeping her locked up here… she'll try something Papyrus. We should take her with us," he said. Papyrus studied Frisk. _Damn it. How would they even bring me into this so-called town? Wouldn't people see that I'm obviously a human?_

"You make a good point, brother… I suppose we could pass her off as a rather small tiefling. She'd just need the horns and maybe a mask to hide her human features… TINY HUMAN!" He called. Frisk snapped to attention and crept toward them. She shot Sans a withering glance, her hatred for him seething through her. Here he was again, sabotaging any chance she had to escape. Although… if she could slip past their attention, maybe she could very well evade them. Not all hope was lost. 

"Yes sir?" She asked, a new hope lighting in her soul. Papyrus assessed her until he gave a content grunt. 

"You will be going into town with us today. Now, Snowden is filled with deplorable filth, so stick close to us for safety," he ordered. She nodded curtly. 

"I'll have to be there early, but you can wander about with Sans. I'm sure he'll protect you, right?" The both of them gave a curt, wry laugh, before eyeing each other. Sans sighed. 

"I don't think she likes me very much," he stated as he watched her twitch. Papyrus grunted knowingly. 

"Well I can hardly blame her. You are probably worse company than the whores at Grillby's," he grunted. Frisk bristled at the comment. 

"That's low hanging fruit," grunted Sans. Frisk swallowed back her disgust. Prostitution. She had never been above it. She knew what it was to be these faceless women. She bristled at the word, whore. _How many times have I been called that?_

"Please… don't use that word," she whispered. Sans and Papyrus perked up when she spoke. Sans arched a brow bone at her. 

"What word?" Asked Papyrus. Frisk looked away and swallowed. 

"Whore…" she murmured. Sans tilted his head curiously as he studied her. He had been doing that a lot recently. She took a deep breath. 

"I didn't know it offended you," said Papyrus. She feigned an easy laughter and brushed her bangs away from her eyes. 

"I… I'm going to go get ready," she said before she turned on her heel and made her way upstairs. She could hear the rumble of Sans's dark chuckles as she ascended. 

Despite the fear of being dragged into Sans's presence, she couldn't help but feel a bubbling giddiness swell up inside of her. This would be the first time she had left the house since she had been attacked by hellhounds. 

Papyrus opened her door just as she was about to pull her dress over and she quickly jumped back with a yelp. He covered his eyes. 

"I apologise for intruding on your living space, but I wanted to give you these. Those sweaters are… much too provocative for Snowden," he said. He tossed her a dress on a hanger, a pair of gloves, and a mask. She was a bit offended. The sweaters went down to her knees, they definitely were not too "provocative." _Perhaps monsters don't have legs. Wouldn't want to scare them. Wouldn't want to make them jealous, oh no, absolutely not_. She rolled her eyes and put the clothes on the bed. 

"This was the most modest thing I could find in the closet. I believe it… it may have belonged to my mother," he murmured. Frisk looked up at him, a frown growing on her face. He had a mother? Was she the inhabitant of the master bedroom? The master bedroom that was completely cleaned out? She didn't completely believe that someone like Sans or… even someone like Papyrus could be _conceived_ by someone. 

And then she realized Papyrus was giving her his mother's dress. Why? 

"You're... mother's dress? I don't...I don't think… I don't think that's a good idea," she murmured as she gazed at the dress. It was a beautiful burgundy, linen dress. On a monster it would probably fall to the knees, but on her it definitely covered her feet. There was a small cut in the collar that would show off a bit of her chest, but not too much. It really was a pretty dress. She didn't know why Papyrus was giving it to her. 

"Nonsense… it's just for today and besides… it wasn't her prettiest frock. Now get dressed, this is a formal event," he stated before slipping away. A formal event...what, were public executions like Church Sundays in this shit hole? 

"That...is a nice garment," murmured Flowey from the window seal. 

"Do you think… Papyrus… _fancies_ you?" He asked. Frisk frowned as she stripped away her sweater and began to pull the dress over her head. It fell perfectly around her, if one discounted the loose fit of the sleeves and frumpy waistline. She admired herself in the mirror as the absurdity of Flowey's musings processed in her mind. 

"All part of the plan," she said as she picked up the mask. A strange Venetian mask of sorts. It was made of bone, and engraved with gold leaves and vinery. The lips were painted red and a black veil fluttered out from it. Was this supposed to hide her? She lifted the mask to her nose and stared into this new face. Ivory perfection; complete neutrality. Not a single emotion to be shown. She tied it around her face and flipped the veil over. 

"What exactly is your plan?" He asked. Frisk held out her hand to him and he crawled up her arm. His roots spread to her head and wound through her hair as he created horns for her. She pulled on her gloves and smiled. There was something enchanting about the mask that stared back at her. Something strangely beautiful. She could get lost in it. 

"People protect what they want… and people give to receive. My _plan_ Flowey, is that I will be wanted. Then no one will touch me. Then I can be given freedom. There are so many ways to fight for something, and sometimes mind games are as equally valuable as a fist fight. So I put up with bullshit chores and _drowning_ because I have no other _fucking_ option… I bet you wish I'd just… stab them and run," she scoffed. Flowey winced. 

"I never said that. I don't want anyone to get hurt," he murmured. 

"They're going to yell at me if we keep talking," said Frisk matter-of-factly. 

When Frisk jogged downstairs, Sans caught her in his gaze, and his eyes went black. She froze at that stare. Something felt different however… she was behind a mask and he couldn't see the tremble of her lips anymore. She felt both brave that she had a shield over her emotions and terrified that he would finally let go of his restrain now that she was a blank face. 

"What the fuck are you wearing?" He spat at her as if she had just killed someone he loved. She stepped back. 

"Papyrus picked it out," she croaked, finally finding her voice now that she had a mask to protect her. A shield to his terror. He growled and turned away. If Papyrus picked it out, it wasn't worth arguing over. 

Frisk suddenly realized why he was upset. She was wearing his _mother's_ dress. An ounce of pity struck her as she followed him and his brother out into the open air. They must have lost her. She looked down at the dress and frowned. It felt wrong to be wearing it, but this is what Papyrus had given her… and she had been ordered to obey his every demand. She knew what occurred when that didn't happen; even if she didn't do anything wrong.

She glanced at Sans as Papyrus mounted his horse and kicked him into a trot. Sans scoffed and turned to her. 

"Looks like it's just you and me kid," he grunted. She shuddered and stepped away as he approached, his hand held out. He growled in annoyance 

"I can't believe he gave you that. Come here. _Come here."_ He growled as he grasped her hand. 

"I know you're gonna try somethin'. You're stickin' by me," He said as red mist surrounded them. Flowey narrowed his eyes as Frisk raised her chin to look up at him. She swallowed her revulsion for him and looked down at his hand on her wrist. An unquenchable audaciousness crept up inside of her. 

"I preferred it when you didn't talk to me." She said as the smoke covered them. He glared down at her. 

"Careful." 

⁂

  
  


The smoke swirled away to reveal an alleyway covered in mud mixed snow. It stunk something fierce. Garbage was overflowing a dumpster and most of the litter had scattered the ground. 

She sniffed and covered her face as Sans led the way through the alley and out into the streets of Snowden. She was reminded of the small German villages she would visit as a kid. The cobblestone streets, the oil lit lamps, the billows of snow, and the charming half-timbered architecture. 

Monsters of all shapes and sizes crowded the streets. They were all terrifying beasts that made her stomach drop to her feet. Even though they all had the look of hell in their eyes, it seemed as if _everyone_ was terrified of Sans the Skeleton. The crowds parted like the Red Sea for Sans when he walked past. She didn't blame any one of them. 

Her soul burned with excitement. The first time out of that God forsaken farmhouse. Oh she finally felt happiness, or something like it. Even though she could smell the faint aroma of garbage and shit rising off the ground, and everyone looked like they would steal her soul and eat her first born child, there was a lightness in her step. A new found freedom. She glanced over when she saw a large building at least three stories high. The sign read "Snowed Inn" and Frisk smiled at the clever word play. In the front window she saw a sign that said **_Help Wanted. Inquire Within._ **

"Oh fuck, he's here, quick, cross the street." 

"It's Sans, don't look at him." 

"Who's with him?"

"I've never seen that monster before." 

"Why would anyone..? Poor girl…" a chorus of whispers rose from the crowd as they parted for them. She shrunk into herself as eyes fell upon her. Flowey gulped and Sans paused in front of a black building with a neon pink sign that read, "Grillby's." The windows were tinted black and she could hear faint music from inside. 

"What are we doing?" She whispered. Sans shot her an icy glare. 

"Well I'm getting a drink, God knows I'm gonna need it. Papyrus won't be here for another few minutes give or take, so we're stuck together, and you're gonna go where I go," he scoffed as he pushed the door open. Frisk slipped in and was hit by darkness. She followed him down a black hallway before they were greeted with the main attraction. Blue and purple lights were strung up around the corners and there was a big stage right in the middle that every patron was hounding over. Frisk immediately saw why. A dancer. 

She grew sick to her stomach and turned away. Her mind was dragged back into Claude's club in France. The only job she could pick up that paid fast money. The only job she could pick up that would shelter her from the streets after she had been left behind by the man she thought loved her. She couldn't breath in here. 

"Hey kid, keep moving," he growled. Of course someone like Sans would frequent this place. She watched as several monsters greeted him. He was a regular. One of the girls, a peach colored bunny, waved at him, a fond smile on her face. 

"Sans! Hello!" She called, but he didn't pay attention. Granted, he noticed; he merely ignored. Frisk watched with exasperated amusement as he looked away innocently. Frisk glanced at the girl, and grew alarmed when she saw her _glaring_ at her. _What the fuck did I do!?_ She quickly chased after Sans. 

He knocked on the counter and waved at the bartender. Frisk glanced over him to see a purple flame the size of a man. It _was_ a man, she realized. A man made of purple fire. His burning white eyes shot Sans a look before he made his way to them. 

"Sans the Skeleton." His voice was like the crack of fire on the logs, the hiss of water putting it out, and the pop of sparks being released into the night. There was something hypnotic about it. 

"I haven't seen you in a while. Finally escape your little brother's iron claws? I'm surprised he hasn't put me out of business yet," he teased. Sans grimaced. 

"Believe me, he's tried. But then where else would I get the best mustard in town?" He asked. Mustard? Frisk perked up, much to her detriment; for as soon as she looked up, Grillby caught her in his gaze. 

"And who is this lovely specimen..?" He asked. Sans glanced back at her and rose a brow bone. 

"What, _this_ piece of work? This is… Moxie. She's working for us currently," he explained. Grillby eyed her as she glanced at Sans with confusion. _Moxie?_

"That's an interesting virtue name. Tieflings are so weird sometimes. What's behind that mask of hers?" He asked, coming to stand in front of her. 

"A deformation so hideous it would turn you to stone," he said. Frisk shot Sans a look, but her mask rendered her completely emotionless. Grillby shook his head, not entirely turned off. 

"How exciting, how much is she? She's so small, I know a lot of monsters who would like someone like her. Tieflings are in high demand around these parts. What with their bodies the closest thing a guy around here can get to those _humans_." Sans's eyes went black as Frisk froze. 

"She's not for sale, Grillby. Now go make yourself useful and get me a drink... The usual." Grillby's eyes rolled over Frisk, before he nodded and walked away. Frisk clenched her fist. 

"Why did you take me here?" She asked through clenched teeth. Sans shrugged. 

"I needed a drink… but I'm starting to think that this was a mistake…" he grunted. Frisk swallowed back the bile in her throat. Did he live to torture her? 

"Listen, if I'm going to look at you wearing my mother's dress all day, I'm going to get a drink… How fuckin ironic too, that you're wearing it to an execution. How fucking rich," he growled. Frisk shook her head. What had happened to him to make him like this? Although, whatever it was, it was a sorry excuse. She had been through hell and back and she didn't enjoy hurting people. Maybe it was a demon thing. 

"Well she didn't pick it out," pointed out Flowey. Before Sans could retaliate, Grillby came back with a rocks glass filled with a creamy, yellow, alcoholic drink. It _looked_ like a Yellow Jacket Cocktail... She had made only one of those in her entire life. But what wasn't familiar to her was that it smelled like _mustard_. _An awful drink with an awful smell... For an_ awful _man. Guess it fits._

"No she didn't, and that makes it worse. Papyrus should know better," he growled. Frisk looked down. 

"What the fuck ever though. Nobody matters except for Papyrus, so what does it fuckin matter what I think? Absolutely nothing. You wanna know why the fuck I was so pissed off last week? Why I wanted to hurt you?" He growled. Frisk shrunk into herself as he gulped down his drink. She didn't care _why_ he was pissed off enough to take his anger out on her. It didn't matter why. He was deplorable and behavior like that couldn't be excused. 

"That bastard that's hanging today called me a Gaster. A fucking Gaster. No one's used that name sense the old fuck, well… Let's just say my old man was a piece of shit. " he trailed off as if he had realized he had spilled his words and now had to clean them up. Frisk glared across at him. 

"You drowned me because someone called you by your father's name…" she murmured. Sans gulped down the rest of his drink. He turned to her. 

"Well I guess it was a bit of an over reaction but… That's just the first part of it. You have no idea what he was like, what he put us through. You haven't even scratched the surface. I grew up in hell." He growled. Frisk bristled. 

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" She spat. Sans leaned back, and the two fell into a tense silence. She twitched under his gaze as he studied her. She felt like a specimen under a microscope. 

"I don't know how you do it." She frowned with new confusion as he changed the subject. Her silence was a tell to continue, so he did. 

"I had never felt bad after torturing someone… _and_ as a guy in my position… I've tortured a lot of poor fucks. They're all the same. I've never felt bad. But then you look at me with those big, brown eyes of yours and you just…" he trailed off. Her eyes widened. _He felt bad? Maybe that's why he carried me up to my room…_ Maybe that was the reason for a lot of things. _It doesn't fucking matter if he felt bad._

"Come on, Papyrus is probably here now and if he sees me here he's going to string me up along with Drake," he grunted. Frisk stared up at him as he began to walk away. He was so filled with mystery and she didn't understand a single thing about him. Then again, she too was filled with mystery. _I guess we have that in common._ She quickly clambered after him when she caught the leering eyes of Grillby on her. 

"That was a joke, you're allowed to laugh," he said as he pushed the door open. Frisk rolled her eyes and shared a look with Flowey. 

_"Pourquoi tu ne mets pas tes blagues dans le cul, salaud,"_ She spat. Flowey burst out laughing and Sans chuckled wryly under his breath. He knew she was cussing him out, and it made it worse when he couldn't understand her. He couldn't deny the fact that he found it very amusing, however, so it didn't really grate on him the way other things did. 

"Whatever you say, Frenchie," he grunted. She smirked under her mask. For a moment, she almost felt a sense of comradery with him. He seemed to be in a good mood despite his biting words and anger over her clothes, and then she remembered everything he had done. Then she remembered that he had dragged her into a strip club so he could get a drink _?_ She remembered the prying eyes of that bartender, Grillby. He had the same look that Claude had. 

"Sans… don't ever bring me back to that God awful place," she whispered as they made their way to the square where monsters were beginning to gather. 

"Grillby's isn't for everyone. Your stomach too weak?" He asked, before his mind snagged on something. 

"At the house… you said not to use the word whore. Is that what you were? Before all this?" He asked. She clenched her jaw at the accusation. That was a long time ago. She wasn't a tramp her whole life. _Just at the darkest… most vulnerable time. I'll be damned if I ever go back._

When Frisk didn't answer Sans turned away from her and didn't ask her any more questions. He didn't need to. She felt her eyes well up. Would this make things worse for her? Would he try to take advantage of her now that he knew she may or may not have done unspeakable things? She shuddered and trailed behind him. _How would a skeleton even do that?_ She asked that question a lot these days when those dark thoughts surfaced in her mind. 

She looked up to see a huge dead tree in the center of the square, and a gallows right below it. How medieval. Flowey tensed up and hid as best as he could. A bell in a church tower, _ironic,_ began to toll. 

Sans led the way to the front row where his brother sat, mounted on the glorious Calibri. When Frisk once again laid eyes on the beast, she felt more tears slide down her face, once again overcome by his beauty. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it. She stiffly stood next to Sans and looked up at Papyrus. Just past the guards was a news crew. 

"And here we are, _live_ in Snowden. Freddy Drake was a loud voice in the crowd. But was he too loud? We loved him as a comedian, but where does the line get drawn in Comedy? In his majesty's opinion, the line is drawn when his name is the punchline. Let this be a warning to those hoping to go into standup, one wrong joke and you can get the noose." 

Frisk felt her skin crawling as she listened to what the demoness was saying. There was a growl near her and she turned to see the cerberus staring across at her. The hellhound slowly turned his head, and when they met eyes, he bared his teeth. Her heart leaped into her throat. They recognized her. They had called to her soul, they knew her. 

"Sans," she whispered frantically. He grunted and looked up as Dakota and Doug dragged Frederick Drake onto the platform. Sans glanced across at Garg and Lez and his eye sockets went black. The dogs lowered their ears and turned away. 

"Here comes a member of the high court now," said the reporter. Frisk dragged her eyes away from the dog to see a tall creature, much taller than even Papyrus, gliding up the stage. The strange demon was dressed in all white robes, and a red stole draped over its shoulders. Its face was hooded and nothing but red eyes stared through. 

A silence spread through the crowd, and the monsters seemed to stand straighter as the council member held up its hands. 

_"Hoc sacramentum diximus, nobis exhibito, hora. Hostes omnes erunt occisionis. In hoc est infernum ibi est una regula, una veritas. Infragilis. Occidere aut occidi."_ It was like second nature to them. The chant chilled her to the bone. She did not know the words, but the anger in them was clear. This was the pledge of the Underground. This was the mantrum of Hell. As they chanted, she watched as Frederick Drake, no one but a brave comedian, was strung up. At the end of the haunting pledge, Frederick began to croak out his last words. 

"There will come a day of rec—" the bottom fell out. A snap resounded through the silent square. Frisk cried out and covered her mouth in surprise as she watched his body hang limp from the rope. The dogs snapped their attention back to her and the council demon slowly turned its hooded head towards her due to the outburst. Those glowing red eyes singled her out of the crowd. 

Frisk felt an arm wrap around her and looked up to see Sans pulling her in. Her stomach filled with dread at being so close to him, even if he was trying to protect her. His touch was revolting, however his mere presence was enough to ward away the prying eyes. A sigh of relief escaped her. 

They all watched as the monster's soul drifted out of his body in thin, wisps of white smoke. His body began to turn to a chalky, white, dust. 

The executioners walked off the platform and the council member slowly trailed after them. The crowd murmured until those murmurs turned to shouts now that they knew they had the freedom to talk again. Papyrus whistled and they straightened out. 

The hellhound shot forth and raced for the body. It grabbed Fred's dusting corpse in its jaws and dragged him out of the town, the larger cerberus following at his heels. Papyrus looked down at Frisk from atop his steed and sniffed. 

"Good riddance," he grunted, before turning his horse and leading them through the crowd. The monsters made way for Papyrus, Sans, and by extension, for her too. Frisk glanced at the news reporter as she and her crew made her way over to the skeletons. How brave of her. 

"Lieutenant Papyrus! Lieutenant! What can you tell us about Freddie Drake?" She asked. Papyrus glared down at the camera. 

"In his last moments, he abandoned comedy for cowardice," he supplied, before he added, "now get that thing out of my face." Pictures flashed. Sans shielded Frisk and she flinched away in disgust.

"Papyrus! One more question," said the reporter. Frisk glanced up at Papyrus to see him twitch with annoyance. 

"I said, get that _thing_ out of my _face_ . _Or else,"_ he growled. 

"What can you say about this year's annual Vernal Purge? Any locations you could disclose?" Both Sans and Papyrus stiffened and Frisk felt her soul grow icy with dread. _Purge?_ She thought. 

"Do you have anything better to do besides being a waste of time and matter? What news channel do you… Ah, I see, MTT network. So you're a waste of time, matter _and_ talent. Are you going to keep bothering me all day or will I have to make an example of you too?" Barked Papyrus. Sans snorted with laughter. Frisk found herself panicking. She didn't want to watch anyone else get hurt. The news crew took the memo and stepped away from the skeleton brothers. All except the reporter who was hungry for a bite. Frisk rolled her eyes with annoyance as she continued to follow them. 

"Papyrus, if you would just—" Both Frisk and the reporter gasped as a blue light shot through the monster's body. Frisk looked up at Papyrus with wide eyes. 

"If you survive this all night, perhaps I will answer your questions. But I doubt you have the strength," he said with a cruel smile. The crowd of monsters gasped and raced away from the brothers in terror, afraid that they too would get picked. Frisk gave a cry of fear as she watched the demoness gasp and sputter as she tried to keep herself as still as possible so the bone would not kill her. Her soul pulsed with empathy, and the icy pain that had accompanied the bone spread through her chest where she too had been picked. 

"Papyrus… let her go," gasped Frisk. Sans, Flowey and Papyrus shot Frisk a shocked look. 

"What did you say to me… servant?" He spat. Frisk didn't know why, but his use of the word really irked her. She had no reason to think he cared for her, but when it was thrown into her face, she realized just how much of an object she had become. Sans narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her. She glared up at Papyrus. She didn't know where this newfound bravery had come from, but underneath this mask, she felt unstoppable. 

"She was just asking questions… let her go, Papyrus!" she demanded. The monsters watched as the small little thing before them told the Lieutenant of the royal guard to leave an annoying reporter alone. Papyrus stammered; he was dumbfounded by her audacity. Sans bared his teeth and looked around, shooting poisonous looks at anyone who glanced their way. 

"Perhaps you would like to join her then, hm? We're all getting so bold today. Sans, get her back home," he growled. Frisk's eyes widened at the threat. 

_"Ne venez pas près de moi!_ Papyrus!" She growled.

"That's Lieutenant Papyrus to you!" He spat. Sans grabbed her hand and pulled her into his red mist. The two were gone. Papyrus looked around at the faces staring fearfully at him. 

"What are you all gulping at? And you, reporter. What is your name? What is her name?" He spat. Her crew, who was surrounding her and trying to see if she was ok, quickly shot to attention. The camera was still running. 

"Adeline," provided one of the cameramen. Papyrus grunted. 

"Adeline, I will come back here tomorrow and remove the bone. Let's see if you survive that long," he growled, before he kicked Calibri into a run and galloped out of the town. Now for another matter that needed confronting. 

⁂

"What were you trying to accomplish, kid?" Snapped Sans when they arrived home. Frisk jerked herself away from him. 

"You're awful. You're both awful. I don't care what you do to me for saying that," she retorted. He threw his hands in the air like a man about to get shot. 

"And I'm gonna guess you're the saint? You can't embarrass my brother like that in public," he growled. She groaned in frustration and jerked the mask off. Her hair fluttered over her eyes and she quickly brushed it away. 

"Well your brother shouldn't… _putain il, quel que soit!_ Everyone is awful all the time, and I'm so sick of it. I am so… I just watched a man get hanged. _Hanged._ A demon tried to _buy_ me—"

"—Get used to it dollface, you're in hell now," he growled. Frisk clenched her jaw. 

"Oh really? Because I could've sworn I was in Miami! _I was thrown down here, people tried to murder me,"_ she cried. Sans narrowed his eyes. 

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" He said darkly, throwing her words back at her like a slap in the face. She narrowed her eyes and ran upstairs to get away from him. 

Sans stood in the foyer, his eyes dark as he processed what had just happened. As he processed the whole day. She really knew how to rile him up. He didn't think he had ever heard her yell like that, but she had been getting bolder since the day she had shoved him. 

He couldn't really blame her, after all, him and Papyrus had been pretty big assholes. Him more so than Papyrus, but the point still stood. _Don't go feeling sorry for her._ He couldn't help it though. She had done the very thing he had sworn she wouldn't do to him. She had gotten under his metaphorical skin. Those big, brown eyes. So filled with fear, wonder and rage. Passion. 

When Papyrus got home, Sans was sitting in the living room watching the news. The mysterious servant of Papyrus and Sans was all the rage, which couldn't be worse for them. 

"Where is the human? We need to have a word on _respect._ Maybe I'll allow you to give her a lesson in manners," Growled Papyrus. Sans shrugged and glanced up, anger swelling in him. For some reason the promise of torturing the girl didn't appeal to him. 

"She's probably in her room… she's pretty mad at us," he grunted. Papyrus eyed him, a small ounce of shock hitting him when Sans didn't grow excited but rather annoyed. This was unlike his brother… 

"Not nearly as infuriated as I am with her," he grumbled as he peeled off his coat. Sans rolled his eyes and turned to his brother. 

"Everything's always about you isn't it," he mumbled. Papyrus cocked a brow bone at the jab at his character. 

"What are you implying?" He asked. Sans turned the TV off and grabbed his jacket before he shoved past his brother. 

"You know, I got a real _bone_ to pick with you. Why the fuck did you let Frisk wear mom's dress?" he asked under his breath. Papyrus sighed, he knew this would come. 

"She needed clothes that would cover her. I didn't know what else to do, and I assumed feminine clothes would suit her better than my clothes or your clothes. Besides, I didn't think it would matter too much, I mean…I know you two were close but… mom's been dead for almost sixteen years now and—" 

"—Don't tell me what I know, Papyrus. Don't ever let her wear mom's clothes again. Get her some new clothes. Fuck, I'll get her clothes; don't fucking give her mom's clothes. Ya got that?" he spat. 

"Clear as crystal, brother—"

"—They don't fit her anyway—"

"—I understand, are you done now?" Grunted Papyrus as Sans jogged up the stairs. 

"Fuck off," retorted his older brother. Papyrus sighed and sat, defeated on the couch. He glanced at the silver eyes of his shade lurking in the corner. 

"You ought to stop snooping," he sniffed. The shade meowed at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We can only go up! We can only go up from here. Sans feels very bad and we can work with that. 
> 
> Also fun fact, Yellow Jacket Cocktails were a prohibition era drink! I fashioned the Mustard Cocktail after it. 😉
> 
> Up next: We learn more about Frisk's back story and Sans takes her on a bit of a shopping spree. 
> 
> If you like this story, please don't forget to comment and leave a kudos to show your appreciation! Thank you!


	12. Bonnie

**A/N: For those who are wondering, I do have a face claim for Frisk. She's one of my favorite models; Taylor Lashae. So Frisk would like something like this:**

[Frisk's Faceclaim ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/VK5GXs3L9LHmX7eC9)

**but anyway, please do enjoy Chapter Twelve!**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Bonnie

* * *

"Tout le monde, première position. De La Noir, rentre dans votre estomac!" _Frisk, ten years old, stood at the barre with her arms outstretched in front of her. She sucked in her stomach and tilted in her pelvis to fit the proper form as the instructor passed by. A girl giggled behind her and Frisk glanced at her with an arid frown._

_She had danced. She had always been a dancer. Her father had paid for dance classes since she was a little girl. He told her to never take it for granted, that at any moment it could be taken away due to finances. She of course, didn't understand that as much. She'd come to understand in the future._

_As she pirouetted across the dance floor, her body swirling around her legs like a top, she felt a sense of joy spike in her. She was made for this._

⁂

"Vous avez été magnifique là-haut," _the compliment was music to Frisk's naive sixteen years old ears. The boy was gorgeous, his eyes were as blue as the sky, and the stars that twinkled in them were just as bright. He took her out and they began to date._

_Candles. Rose petals on the bed. She had wanted her first to be special. His roaming hands sent sparks of fire through her body. His kisses melted away her skin. Her soul burned passionately, as did his. She thought she was ready for what came next. Was this how it was supposed to be? Pain shot through her as he crashed into her mercilessly. She clenched her jaw and fought through the pain, trying not to discourage him. This wasn't what she had been told it would be like; wasn't this supposed to be wonderful? When it was finally over, he left her to her thoughts and tears._

_She kept seeing him though. She was foolishly in love with him and didn't want to let him go. Her father didn't approve of the boy. He said he would destroy her, that she should stay focused on what was important. Her schooling and dance._

"Louis, je suis enceinte." _The news of her pregnancy shocked both of them. He was terrified. Terrified because this meant he was in it for the long run now. Frisk couldn't just be his play thing anymore. She would be the mother to his child. He wanted to run away. She begged to go with him. If her father found out she was pregnant, he would cast her out anyway. He took her to Lyon… and then in the shadow of night… he left her there._

⁂

  
  


_Alone in Lyon, she knew she needed help. She cursed Louis for leaving her with a baby on the way, without a way to make money. She was only sixteen going on seventeen and she had nowhere to go. She needed easy money._

_She began to work for a man named Claude Dubois. He was a cruel man, but he was helpful. She was a bartender at first for a year and a half. But Frisk had always been a dancer. One of the women offered to teach her how to dance the pole. Ballet evolved into erotic dance… and then the men knew her by name. And then the men wanted her. Claude always gave the men what they wanted._

_There were no candles. There were no rose petals on the bed. It was merely a squeaking headframe and strangers in the night who ravished her until they had their fill. There was no pleasure. When had there ever been pleasure? She spent her nights wondering how her life had ended up there in those dirty motel rooms._

_The baby of course… never came. She was both relieved and torn apart at the loss. She had grieved for far too long for Claude's liking. No one cared about the faceless women. It got bad when a newer girl tried to fight back against Claude. He tried to kill her._

"rester à l'écart de son!" _Screamed Frisk, coming to the girl's defense. That was when she had unlocked her soul… her determination. That night she had been too powerful to punish. That same night, she found herself running again. This time she wasn't chasing anyone. This time she was surviving. She left behind the filth, but she had left behind the women as well. They suffered on. The guilt weighed heavy on her heart. But then, there was Sicily…_

  
  


⁂

"Hey sweetheart," grunted Sans as Frisk stretched to clean the windows. She gasped and twirled around, back pressed against the glass. He was early. Was he mad about their fight? Was he going to hurt her now that Papyrus wasn't home? 

She had been quite rude to him, but she had been dragged about all yesterday to most unpleasant places and events. She was in the right for finally snapping at him. It had felt good… like the time she had stood up to Claude for the girl. 

Sans saw her bewildered look and chuckled. She was just too cute. 

"Calm down…you look like you're gonna kill someone… As interesting as that would be, I need you to get ready. I'm taking you into town," he said. She frowned at him. 

"Why?" She asked, confusion filling in her. Sans shot her a look as he meandered towards the living room. 

"Uhh… well let's see… oh right, I'm taking you shopping," he grunted nonchalantly. Frisk stared at Sans, dumbfounded. Was this the same person she knew from a week ago? What game was he playing? 

"Why..? " she asked again. Sans narrowed his eyes at her. 

"Are you gonna keep asking questions? Go get ready before I change my mind!" He snapped. She flinched, but nodded and raced upstairs. What was he doing? _Taking me shopping? Where is the real Sans? What is going on?_ She thought as she did her best to cover up. 

Flowey climbed onto her shoulder and recreated her faux tiefling horns. 

"Where are we going?" He asked. She shook her head, at a loss for words. Frisk rejoined Sans in the foyer, still fastening her mask to her face. Why was he doing this? Did he want something from her? Or was this something else? _Is this about his mom's dress? Oh God, that's what it is…_ she sighed as she realized the method behind the madness. But why was he taking her with him? 

As they walked out of the house, she awaited the uncomfortable sensation of his red mist and teleportation, but he kept walking. 

"Not today. I uh, heh, I didn't get a skele _-ton_ of sleep last night so… I guess we'll just enjoy the walk," he said with a chuckle. She jogged after him. _So magic drains his energy…_ she noted that. If he ever attacked her, and she could withstand him long enough… maybe she'd have a chance. She didn't really like fighting though. She had only learned out of necessity. Besides… she didn't know his stamina, and she didn't want to test him. She'd probably be dead before he ran out of energy. 

"Jesus, do you ever laugh? You're… always serious. Lighten up, kid," he grunted. Frisk shot him a look as Flowey sneered at him. 

"Not to poke an angry bear… but your jokes aren't funny," spat Flowey. Frisk smirked under her mask and Sans side eyed him. 

"Did you hear somethin'?" He murmured. She bit her lip and shook her head in exasperation at him. 

"No one has given me a reason to _lighten up_ ," she said simply. Sans rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

"Ok pagliacci, no need to bring the mood down," he grumbled as their shoes crunched through the snow. Frisk clenched her jaw. _Is he being serious?_ She watched as he halted and looked around them. _What is it now? He's insane._

"Do you hear that?" She froze and glanced around. The wintery woods that surrounded them were still with ice and silence. What were they looking for? Her heart raced when she went over the possibility that the wolves were out. He had dragged her out here to murder her! Then there was the pecking of a woodpecker. 

"There," he said, pointing out a patch of red feathers. Frisk gasped with relief when she realized they were sightseeing. She narrowed her eyes and watched as the woodpecker thumped away at the bark… and then she noticed the squirrel body hanging onto the tree. It was a gryphon. A small little woodpecker gryphon. She smiled softly. And she thought she'd be killed… 

"I don't usually take the scenic route, but when I do, it's fun to stop and smell the roses," he said with a gentle grin. Frisk glanced at him and smiled ever so slightly. There was something soft inside of him that he was showing. _Remember who he is._ Her inner voice was right. He was still the man who got her in trouble so he could drown her. He was still the man who was cruel and scary and took joy in picking on her because he had control. 

As they walked through the crystalline forest, her mind wandered to the Ruins. To Toriel. She needed to write that letter. Maybe get her a present. The demoness deserved it. 

She could have the opportunity to explore the town. It was a very charming little village, if not for the gallows or the skeletons who lorded over it. She spared a glance at Sans. He looked up and around as if he had been looking at her and she had caught him in the act. 

"So, what's with this sudden generosity, trashbag?" Growled Flowey when the silence had carried on for too long. Sans cocked a brow bone and grunted. 

"I was gettin' tired of seein’ the same sweaters everyday," he lied. Frisk hummed at the reply. She might as well humor him while he was feeling generous. 

"Well thank you… I was getting tired of wearing the same sweaters everyday," she said with that honey coated voice she used so often to get her way. Sans ran his tongue over his fangs and rose his brow bones. _He has a tongue?_ A shudder went down her spine at that knowledge. The more she thought about it the more it kind of made sense. He was a monster after all… and he and Papyrus could eat. He could also talk and you needed a tongue to technically do that… She glanced back at him. 

" _Well thank you…_ God you… you do that on purpose?" he asked as they crossed over the bridge. Frisk narrowed her eyes at him. 

"What do you mean, do I do it on purpose? Do what?" She knew what he meant. Did she always try to beguile people with her charms? He gazed at her before shrugging. 

It wasn't long after they crossed the bridge when they entered the town. A sign reading _Welcome to Snowden_ dangled from a large fence post archway. Sans took her to a small department store. 

"Here, go crazy, _Papyrus_ is going to be paying, heheh," he said. She rolled her eyes at the strange relationship between the two brothers. The shop itself was small and homely. There was a corner filled with clothes, another corner filled with groceries and a bigger bakery and cafe in the back. Her eyes were drawn to the back specifically because a woman was sitting in the corner. She had six arms, two big black eyes and three smaller eyes on her forehead. She was wearing a pantsuit that buttoned in such a way to form an hourglass on her chest, and the red blouse underneath made it clear just what she thought of herself as. She was both alluring and hideous. They locked eyes and Frisk quickly looked away when the demoness grinned a fanged smile at her. 

A bunny monster raced to the front when the door bells rang. Her lavender ears drooped when she laid eyes on Sans. Frisk was a bit more comforted with the fact that it wasn't only her who was terrified of him. _Although, I suppose the more I'm around him, the more used to him I get._ You could get used to anything. Even death himself. 

"Oh! Sans the Skeleton… a pleasure to have you in our humble business," she said shakily. The demoness in the back scoffed, giving a quiet laughter. _That was bold_. When the bunny caught Frisk in her panicked gaze, her eyes widened. 

"Don't hurt yourself Bonnie," he grunted, ignoring the woman in the corner. She breathed a shaking sigh and raced to meet them. She was a prettier monster, much nicer to look at than some of the other hellish beings that meandered about. She wasn't as fearsome, that was for sure. 

"Who's this? I saw her at the hanging when she yelled at your brother… that took a lot of guts… " she said. Sans scoffed at the memory. Frisk held out her hand instantly. She felt a bit more comfortable in the homely store than she did in Grillby's club. 

"Moxie," she said softly, her voice only slightly muffled by her Venetian mask. The demoness in the corner eyed her and crossed her legs. 

"Moxie? Well you definitely have a lot of that." Her eyes wandered up to the tiefling horns on her head. Strangely wooden, but she ignored that. She didn't notice Flowey hiding in "Moxie's" jacket either. "Moxie" also didn't have a tail but… Bonnie supposed everyone was different. She hadn't been around too many tieflings to know exactly what to look for. They were far and few between. 

"She's from Hotland," he grunted. Frisk nodded, a small exhilaration filling her as she realized she was accumulating the pieces of the puzzle to her new identity. She could leave the skeletons… romp around with Flowey and her stupid tiefling horns, her new name and the mask. How she would escape the skeletons was beyond her. She'd figure it out though. 

"What's with the mask?" asked the mysterious demoness. Sans glanced across at the woman and growled under his breath. He looked back down at Frisk and narrowed his eyes as he tried to think up a lie. _I'm from a place called Hotland? That's easy._

"I was… well, I was burned. In a little disagreement. It's… hideous, so… mask," she said. She glanced up at Sans and the two forged a giddy understanding. 

"So much intrigue in a mask. People eat up a good mystery. Isn't that right, Sans?" Said the woman from the corner. Sans clenched his jaw and shot a withering look at the demoness. Frisk glanced at her. She coated her voice in the same honey that she did. It was strange hearing it being used on _her._ The demoness was extremely alluring. Even the parts of her that were hideously terrifying were beautiful in some way. Frisk was drawn to her. Sans cleared his throat, and broke the trance. 

"That's why she left," he said. She nodded, growing more and more excited as she forged this new identity, and stared at the demoness. 

"I figured the snow wouldn't be as dangerous. I have a big problem with fire…" she said. Bonnie lifted a brow as she listened to their story and the demoness in the cafe leaned in, as if every word she had to say was important. 

"And how did you… become associated with him?" She asked, gesturing cooly at Sans. This strange woman didn't seem afraid of anything. She stared Sans right in the eyes as if he was just another man in her way. Frisk felt an admiration for her. _Oh, wonderful that you asked. He took me hostage and I've been living as his and his brother's slave._

"Funny story, actually. I found her stumbling around in the woods and she's been living with us because my brother decided to hire her as the help instead of killing her for hopping the fence," he said. It was the truth, in its basic form. Disregarding the torture and being held in the cellar against her will and the time she had almost been killed by dogs, and then that glaring fact that she was not a tiefling, but a human. 

The demoness leaned back, clucking her tongue in dissatisfaction at the answer. Bonnie sent Frisk a concerned look and for a moment she had hope that someone would step in and swoop her away, but she merely shrugged. 

"Ok then…so what can I do for you?" She asked. Sans took control and wandered over to the clothes. 

"Moxie, c'mere. She's gonna want to try some stuff on so just give me the key to the dressing room," he said. Bonnie gulped and went to get the keys from the register. Sans snatched them away and grinned at her. 

"Thanks," he uttered. Frisk gulped and joined him at the clothes. 

"I don't know what Muffet's doing here. This ain't her usual stomping ground…" he growled under his breath. Frisk looked up at him, but shook it off and returned to looking at the clothes. _Her name is Muffet…_

The only thing that would fit her was the extra small. In the midst of all the reds, blacks and golds that she saw everyone wear so often, she caught the flicker of blue. Her eyes lit up and she reached for it. She pulled out a small lacy bralette with embroidered flowers and vines. _It's very pretty… and a lot more my style than all those black sweaters… but it's a little showy and,_ she glanced over her shoulder to see Sans eyeing the garment. He raised his brow bones and looked away innocently. She held her breath as he grunted and wandered off to sit down. 

With him out of her way, she felt a little more wiggle room and waded through the racks until she came face to face with Muffet. Her breath hitched in her throat. Muffet smiled at her, her fangs glinting in the light. 

"That's a beautiful garment… try it with this," she whispered. She held up a black suit jacket and black dress pants. Frisk took the hanger and nodded. She flinched when Muffet leaned in. She smelled like something sweet had gone rotten and was being covered by perfume. 

"You must be miserable working for those skeletons. If you ever… need a friend, give me a call, _dearie_ ," she whispered. She gave her a business card. Frisk looked down at it, and saw the most beautiful calligraphic letters that spelled out, _Little Miss Muffet,_ with a ruby red hourglass. As she looked up to question Ms. Muffet, she found nothing but more clothes. Frisk looked over her shoulder to see the woman slipping out from the front doors, the bell ringing as she went. 

Her eyes lingered before she shook it away and quickly stuffed the business card in her coat pocket. She gathered more clothes into her arms. Several black bralettes, a red dress, a sheen, lace skirt with red flowers and vines embroidered into it, several black pants, one leather, two button up red blouses and a red velvet pantsuit. She tried them on and when she was satisfied, she rejoined Sans. 

"Fucking finally," He grumbled through a yawn. She rolled her eyes and the two went to the counter. _He's really just letting me get all of this?_ She thought as the clothes rang up. They really were beautiful, and very flattering. Sans whistled when the price came up. 

"Damn, you have expensive taste," he grunted as he opened his wallet. She giggled to herself. _Good._ She watched as he forked over several bills. The money was so strange. It had a golden sheen to it, with a Delta Rune emblazoned on the front side. 

"Have a good day, Sans… uh, _occidere aut occidi_ ," said Bonnie when they had finished. Frisk furrowed her brow at the saying. Sans grunted and nodded at her. She lingered as he made his way to the door. 

"Snowed Inn…I saw the help wanted sign, do you know the person who owns it?" She asked. Bonnie lit up. 

"My sister actually. She's been short staffed… I'm sure if you needed a better place to work than," she nodded at Sans, who was waiting outside, before continuing, "I'll recommend you to her. I'm sure if the brothers hired you, you're good," she whispered. Frisk smiled even though Bonnie wouldn't be able to see her. There was kindness in the underworld yet. 

With that, their shopping spree had ended. Frisk jogged out and rejoined Sans on the street. _The clothes really are nice…_

"Thank you," she murmured. He glanced back at her and sighed. 

"Don't mention it," he grunted. She stared at the ground as her mind swarmed with thoughts. There was so much to learn down in the Underworld. 

"What does… _Occidere aut occidi_ mean?" She tentatively asked. Sans growled under his breath and shook his head. Flowey jumped to attention at the chance to stretch his intellectual muscles. 

"It means—" 

"—Kill or be Killed!" Flowey grinned triumphantly as he interrupted Sans, who glowered behind him. Frisk looked between the two and cocked a brow. It was then she recalled when she first met Flowey and he had told her that in this world it was Kill or be Killed. She hadn't seen much of that between the civilians that crowded the streets. They all had one fear it seemed: The Skeleton brothers. The only question was why? 

She looked around and her eyes fell upon a large marble building that contrasted heavily with the usual half-timbered architecture of Snowden.

"Hey, what's that place?" She asked. It had a huge staircase leading up to the golden emblazoned doors and two lion gargoyles guarding it. Sans glanced up, but Flowey beat him to it once again. 

"That's the library," he explained. Sans bared his teeth at once again being interrupted by the over eager daisy. Frisk's eyes lit up and she looked at Sans with desperation in her eyes.

"Oh, can we go? Please, if it's… not too inconvenient for you…" said Frisk. Sans narrowed his eyes at her, and his inhibitions towards her stupid weed melted away. He grinned lazily and gestured to the library. 

"Fine but don't think for a second I'm your little errand boy, I'm doin' this outta the kindness of my soul," he grumbled. Frisk scoffed at his words, but excitement filled her and she practically skipped to the library. She had always loved just how safe and strangely ancient libraries felt. They had an enchanted aura about them, and she could get lost in them for hours. 

"I used to go to the Ebbot City Library practically everyday after I finished cleaning and running errands for Damian. It was like… I could escape. I could escape from the real world in a book, you know?" She mused to Flowey as she approached the stairs. 

The Lions snarled at her and she jumped with shock. Sans was by her side in a second. 

"Halt! Who dares try to enter the chamber of knowledge? Answer these riddles three! Prove you are worthy of the secrets kept inside these hallowed halls," Snarled one of the gargoyles. Sans rolled his eyes. 

"I swear they do this every time. Hey knuckleheads, here's a riddle for you, what's made of stone and covered in dust?" He asked with a cruel grin. Frisk gulped and looked at the gargoyles. The two stone lions looked at each other with confusion and fear.

"It's you. The answer is you, now get out of my way," Sans snapped in annoyance. The lions gave a strangled mew and returned to their posts in defeat. 

"We meant no disrespect," purred the other. Frisk hesitantly walked past them when she was sure they had returned to their more statuesque state. Sans rolled his eyes and led her inside. 

"You certainly have a reputation," murmured Frisk when they entered. Sans looked at her with piqued curiosity. 

"What did it take for you to come up with that genius conclusion?" He sneered. She shot him an icy glare as they walked through the shelves of old books. Her eyes wandered about. The library was just as enchanting and ancient as she had hoped. The ceilings soared above them and owls fluttered through the rafts, returning books to their unreachable shelves. She noticed that very little people were there… maybe two or three. One of those monsters was a Sphinx that sat at the front desk and flipped through the pages of a book. Her womanly face glanced up at them and she scrutinized Frisk, before returning to her book when Sans shot her an icy glare. Frisk noted the interaction as they turned into an aisle. 

"Although… one monster didn't seem too scared of you at all… who is Miss Muffet?" She asked as she pulled out a fat book of fairy tales. Sans's eyes darkened at the mention of the spider demoness. 

"Christ. That bitch. Thinks she's untouchable. She's probably the most money hungry person I've ever met. She's been trying to buy Bonnie's shop for forever… I guess that would explain why she was here. If the seven deadly sins were personified, she'd be greed," he snorted. The Sphinx librarian shushed them harshly and Sans held up his hands defensively. Frisk eyed him as she flipped through the pages of medieval artwork and calligraphy. 

"And would you be wrath?" She asked. The fairy tales were much more different than the ones she had grown up with. _Le Petit Chaperon Rouge_ had been twisted from a story of an innocent girl preyed upon by a wolf, to a werewolf being hunted down by the village. Red Riding Hood _was_ the wolf. There was one about a Kelpie tricking a human, another of the Baba Yega, and one about Death. 

"Yeah, and Papyrus would be pride," he joked. Sans and Frisk both shared a small laugh before Frisk quickly closed the book with a snap and headed for the desk. They checked out the fairytale book and Frisk led the way out. 

"So… fairy tales?" He asked. Frisk nodded. She didn't have to explain herself to Sans the Skeleton. 

"My favorite is the Jabberwocky," mused Flowey. Sans grinned down at the flower. 

"With jaws that bite and claws that catch," he purred. Flowey flinched away. Frisk smirked and held up the book. 

"I want to see what's different in these stories. Human fairy tales are much less monstrous," she said. Sans hummed at the response. 

"I don't know about that, humans are pretty horrid, aren't they?" He asked as he led her into a backstreet. She nodded soberly at his words. 

"Not much different than you all down here in the Underworld. This is where ninety-percent of them deserve to be," she muttered. Sans leaned against a wall as he collected his energy. He eyed her curiously and his grin grew wider at her words. 

"What does that make you?" He asked. Frisk met his gaze and frowned under her mask. Flowey growled at the implication. 

"I'm right where I belong," said Frisk. The two were caught in each other's gaze and neither could look away. Finally, Sans let out a dark chuckle. 

"You never fail to say the most interesting things, kid," he uttered. She tilted her head, puzzled by what he was trying to say. Sans reached out and she hesitantly took his hand, knowing exactly what pain came next. The red mist surrounded them, her skin burned and froze. Her lungs filled and drowned in the smoke. Her soul screamed with agony as it was whisked away. 

She gasped for air when they arrived back at the farm house. Sure now that she would be safe, she tore the mask off and took in another deep gulp for fresh air. Sans shouldered past her and entered his house. 

She watched him silently as he loped upstairs. She heard his door slam closed and a sigh of relief escaped her. Now that she had some room to be by herself, she went to put up her new clothes and breath. A small smile lit up her face as she stroked the black suit Muffet had given her. It was silk. She checked the tag and smirked. _"Spider's Silk by LMM."_

Frisk dug through her pockets and snatched the business card. Flowey looked at it warily. 

"Do you think we should connect with her?" Asked Frisk as she stared down at the red hourglass. Flowey pursed his lips. 

"Frisk, I know you want to get away from Sans and Papyrus, but you don't want to give up one master in favor of another. Sans is a piece of shit, don't get me wrong, but he's a good judge of character. You don't want to get entangled in the spider's web. I've been around the block a couple of times. Trust me," he said. Frisk nodded slowly and put the card in her drawer. 

"What about Bonnie?" She asked. Flowey smirked and glanced at the door. 

"I think you'll have a better chance if you work for them. The only problem is the skeletons live in Snowden… they'd find you," he reasoned. Frisk sat on her bed and bounced on the mattress. 

"If he tortures me again… I'll call Muffet. Until then, I'll stick to the plan… either way, we get out," she whispered. Flowey nodded firmly and Frisk felt her soul burning with determination as the red hourglass burned into her mind. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In a world of angst, we have to have some fluff. 
> 
> Up Next: We take a visit to the Core after a very certain someone hears about the feisty new "monster" living with the infamous Skeleton Brothers. 
> 
> If you enjoy this story, please don't forget to leave a Kudos and a comment to show your appreciation! Seriously, hearing your feedback makes this worthwhile and brightens my day. Xoxo!


	13. Canned Laughter

Chapter Thirteen: Canned Laughter 

* * *

_A beautiful, young maiden lived happily in her father's home. When she came of age her father began looking for suitors to marry his beautiful daughter. When all of the men in the land heard the news, they immediately readied themselves, for the maiden was the most beautiful and desired woman. The highest bidder was a wealthy, old man who already laid claim to five other wives. Her father, bribed by his money, agreed to marry his daughter off to the wealthy man._

_When news of her betrothal reached the young maiden and she saw her husband to be for the first time, she wailed in agony. This man was hideous and mean! The night of her wedding, she held a dagger to her heart._

_Before the dagger could pierce her ivory skin, a skeletal hand gently held hers._

"A shame it would be to waste such beauty before it's time had run up," _the soft voice of Death whispered._

"I don't want to marry the wealthy man, please just take me away if this is to be my fate," _she pleaded. Death gazed upon the fair maiden and slowly shook his head._

"It is not your time, my lady," _he said. She cried and dropped the dagger._

"Please, help me if you will not let me join you," _she begged. Death, enchanted by her beauty, agreed to offer her a favor._

"I will take care of this man who brings you such despair… but in return you must promise to go away with me when your time has come." _She hastily agreed to his terms, and the deal was made. That night, the wealthy, cruel man was dead before the ceremony had begun. The maiden was overjoyed._

_As her life went on, however, she forgot of the deed Death had done for her. She fell in love with life, and with a man who she bared many children for. As she watched her children play in the courtyard, and kissed her husband, she was overwhelmed by joy. She wanted to live forever to always be there for her family who she had grown so attached to. When her time came, Death arrived, ready to claim the woman he had fallen in love with._

"I'm not ready, Death, please give me a few more years," _she pleaded. Death was annoyed, but because he loved her, he let her live to see her children and husband. She forgot about Death once more until the next year when he arrived at her bedside._

"It is your time, and you promised you would go with me," _he said to her. She began to cry and once more begged Death for more time._

"Please! What if my children need me? What will they do when I am gone? Please, let me live forever so I can always be there for them!" _She sobbed. Death relented once more, for he was in love with the maiden and did not want to see her beauty ruined with sadness. However, he knew that she couldn't keep going and great sadness would soon come into her life and she would blame him. Despite this knowledge, he gave her what she wished; immortality._

"I am warning you, my lady, you will face great pain and hardship if you go down this path." _But she cared not for his warning. A war started between two kingdoms and her son was drafted into the front lines. She watched as her first child was slain by his enemies. Death soon came, but not for her. She cried and demanded he spare her son's life. Death was growing impatient with her._

"I have given you everything you have asked for and you haven't given me anything in return. I warned that you would face great pain and hardship if you did not go with me, but you did not listen." _The maiden was devastated by the loss of her child, but she was still in love with life. She would take better care of protecting her other children from hardships._

_Soon a plague swept the kingdom, and her daughter fell terribly ill. The maiden, however, was spared by Death as he promised. When he came to collect her daughter, she begged he spare her daughter's life._

"Please, she is far too young for you to take her away from this world! A mother should not outlive her children!" _She pleaded. Death agreed somberly._

"No they should not, but I warned that you would face great sorrow if you chose life over me." _Despite her agony, the woman was far too in love with life. Her body began to deteriorate and she was in pain every moment of every day, but no matter how long the years, she remained ever alive. Eventually her youngest son died of a murder. She was faced with grief and the terrifying reality of her immortality. Death arrived to claim her son. She gave one last attempt to plead for his life._

"It couldn't possibly be his time! His life was taken from him!" _She begged, but she already knew Death's answer._

"I am truly sorry, but I have only given you what you asked," _They sat together; the maiden cried as she realized what her life would be from now on. She outlived her husband, who died of old age. Now alone, her soul was crushed by true sorrow. She'd never reunite with her family and it was only her own fault. Death was there once more and tried to comfort her._

"Immortality is a painful existence, isn't it?" _He asked as they sat._

"I'm ready to go with you now… please take me. I can't take this any longer," _she pleaded. Death shook his head._

"Humanity. So determined you were to live, you were blind to the suffering that would come. Now you only wish to join me because I have everything and you have nothing. But unlike you, I keep my promises, however painful it is to me. You will live forever." _And with that, Death left her, and the woman lived forever just as he had promised._

⁂

  
  


"This is absolutely ridiculous," barked Papyrus as he paced about his office, landline phone in hand. Frisk stalled as she dusted the hall in-table, her pondering over the stories she had read last night coming to a screeching halt. She leaned against the door to listen. She had been cautious around Papyrus for the past few days, but tried not to be rude despite her anger at him. She still needed him to push her plan for freedom forward. 

"I'm not coming on your show, Mettaton— Leave my maid out of this! I don't care what happened, that was two days ago…No. No! You are insane. This will be a public humiliation… Well you _are_ right about that… Well… yes, I suppose you make a good point. What does she have to do with this? Ah, _that_ little fuss. So this really is your idea of humiliating me, isn't it? … She's not anyone important, she's just the maid. Why was she with us!? It was a public hanging! Everyone was supposed to be there, what -no, listen- are you an idiot!?—" 

"—Whatcha doin'?" Whispered that familiar voice. Frisk gasped and spun around, her back hitting the door. Sans chuckled and shook his head. She did that everytime and it _never_ got old. 

"Are you spying?" He teased. She narrowed her eyes at him and sidestepped him to continue dusting. 

"I don't remember that being against the rules…" she said as she went through her memory. He mumbled something about not spying on people being a given, but she paid no attention. Her heart was racing. What had Papyrus been rambling on about? 

"Besides… he was talking about me," she whispered. Sans grinned and leaned against the wall. 

"You did make a scene the otha' day…you know a lot of people are talkin' about you. I can't go anywhere without one of my buds askin' about the _lovely_ Moxie," he purred. She raised a brow at him and tilted her chin innocently. 

"Funny, I didn't think you had any friends," she whispered. Sans's eyes widened at her dig at him. He chuckled as she shuffled away from him. She gulped as he loomed over her. 

"You're gettin' really bold, kid. I'm starting to think you need to be reminded just _who_ is in charge," he whispered. Frisk clenched her jaw as she was reminded of her drowning. She let out a shaking breath. She really had been getting a bit braver, but she and Flowey had agreed that she couldn't act afraid around him. It just fueled his fire. She had been trying to be brave and defiant towards Sans and sweet and flattering to Papyrus. She had found the loophole the moment Sans had carried her back to her room and she shoved him. She didn't know if he regretted doing that or not or if he enjoyed her new attitude. Either way, he hadn't hurt her since. It was strange, but it worked in her favor so she tried not to question it. However, she wondered if she was taking it too far. 

_Smile, girl, you look like you've seen a ghost._ She flashed her dazzling smile at him. Her hand was shaking as she held up her feather duster and swept it over his face. Her breath hitched when he grunted, but he started to laugh. That fake smile melted into a soft smirk. 

"You little pest," he murmured. She giggled at the interaction. Sans rose his brow bones, his grin growing wider but this time into something genuine. His smile didn't seem cruel this time around. _What is he thinking?_ She didn't understand him at all. He was the same as all the men in her life and yet entirely different. 

Before he could say anything, the door slammed open and Papyrus stomped out to meet them. 

"What are you two snooping around my office for!? You!" He pointed at Frisk and she paled. When Papyrus was mad, he was a train that couldn't be stopped. Frisk had learned to keep out of his way, but it was nearly impossible when she was the source of his frustration. 

"Thanks to your kerfuffle you made in the square, Mettaton booked us an interview on his stupid late night talk show. He wants to speak about the damned comedian's hanging, his stupid little reporter that I impaled, and then of course _you_ ," He spat. Frisk's eyes widened. 

"So that's… I mean, why does he want to talk to me? Won't that make things worse?" She asked. Papyrus groaned and rubbed his forehead. He shoved past Sans and the two shared a look before chasing after him, Sans of course more lazily than her. 

"Of course it will. You should've thought about that before you made a spectacle of yourself. Mettaton thrives off of drama, and you are walking drama for him to exploit. Think of the scandal. _Notorious Skeleton brothers of the royal guard take in strange tiefling girl who is much too short to be a tiefling after human sighting by the hellhounds._ It will garner suspicion and observation from the king… it's a disaster but if I don't accept Mettaton will turn me into the Coward who didn't interview. The great and terrible Papyrus is NOT a coward!" He rambled as he paced the living room. Frisk watched him nervously as Sans leaned against the archway. 

"Don't hurt yourself Paps, steam is comin' out of your skull," grunted Sans. Papyrus shot his older brother a withering look, before centering his attention back onto Frisk. 

"Needless to say, we're—"

"—Fucked—"

"—SANS! Shut your foul mouth! But… yes. We have no chance of wiggling our way out of this, and it's your fault," he spat at Frisk. Frisk stifled an exasperated scoff. She studied Papyrus before quirking a brow. 

"That sounds like something a loser would say. You are far greater than this Mettaton… I'm sure you can come up with something. And if not, then… I guess you're not as great as everyone thinks you are… but of course, that's not true," she leaned forward over a drawer and tapped her temple. 

"I believe in the Great Papyrus… _á vaillant coeur rien d’impossible,_ " she said in her silky sweet voice. Papyrus crossed his arms and pouted as he thought over her words. Sans watched with fascination as his little brother smirked and stroked his chin. 

"I suppose you are right, tiny human… I _am_ the great Papyrus… and that bucket of bolts isn't going to change that," he said. Frisk grinned at just how easily charmed he was. It was somewhat enduring. She definitely liked being around Papyrus more than Sans when he wasn't acting terrible. She glanced back at Sans as he grinned across at her. 

It was somewhat disturbing to her just how interesting she was to him. She may have grown a lot more ballsy but what stopped him from drowning her again? Or worse. There were so many ways to torture someone, and she didn't doubt for a second he wanted to do every single one to her. She shuddered at the thought. So far, however, he hadn't made a move ever since that night. Just watching and joking around. It was almost like he was trying to make up for it. In his weird little way. _That's even more terrifying._ What if he was trying to gain her trust and then break her completely? He seemed like the kind of guy to do that. She could never let down her guard around him. 

She swallowed when he winked at her and quickly looked away. Papyrus stroked his chin in thought. 

"Human, come to my office, we must discuss a plan!" He announced. Sans grunted and went to sit on the couch. 

"Let me get Flowey, he needs to be there too," she said firmly. Papyrus rolled his eyes. 

"Be there in _ten…nine…"_ he counted off as he made his way back to his office. Sans smirked at her. 

"Better get on it, sweetheart," he whispered. She gulped and stumbled into a run. As he counted down, she sprinted up the stairs and down the hall to her room. _This is ridiculous!_ She thought frantically as he made it to five. 

"What's going on—AHHGH! Frisk!" Screeched Flowey when she snatched him off the windowsill and sprinted downstairs. _What am I, a five year old!?_ She threw open the office door and slumped over her knees to catch her breath. 

"Oh perfect, you made it on time!" Snapped Papyrus as he tossed himself into his spinning chair. Frisk staggered into her own chair and sighed. 

"What is going on!?" Cried Flowey. Papyrus grunted in annoyance at the little creature and briefly explained the situation to him. 

"So in short, we'll be doing some brainstorming on how to hide the glaring fact that the tiny human is well… _a human._ Since you create her tiefling horns, you'll need to be there, so you get to plan with us too, I suppose," he said. Flowey's eyes lit up, before he frowned a hard line. 

"We're gonna be on TV? That's…worrying…" he muttered. Papyrus shrugged and nodded in agreement. 

"Very, but what's done is done. If I had things my way, one: I wouldn't be second to Undyne Leviathan, and two: Mettaton would be nothing but a couple of loose screws, but life is rather unfair. We must roll with the punches. There are certain topics you are not allowed to discuss. If Mettaton asks what it's like living with us… well, avoid answering that completely, or at least be vague," he said. Frisk rose her chin defiantly. 

"Why? What are you afraid of? _Lieutenant Papyrus,_ " she spat bitterly. Papyrus narrowed his eyes at her jab at him. 

"If they know we've pampered you they'd think we were soft and hurt you in order to get to us. Some people are sick like that," he explained. Frisk rose a brow. She couldn't recall being pampered, unless Papyrus considered drowning her, holding her hostage, threatening her and the like were considered pampering. Although most of that was Sans, and the more she thought of it, Papyrus really had "pampered" her. She had a nice room, she didn't have to degrade herself for the brothers' pleasure, she had a full wardrobe… 

"Ok… do you want me to say you were awful?" She asked. Papyrus shook his head. 

"Of course not! Some himbo might think he needs to play the hero and save you, but then our secret would be spilled. Just say it's completely professional, you merely work for us and that's it. If Mettaton asks what gave you the audacity to question my leadership tactics in public-" Frisk rolled her eyes to the heavens, "-You tell him that you didn't have your wits about you and that you had been… going through mood swings. Sans has filled me in on your persona's past, so try to stick with it as closely as possible," he instructed. Frisk nodded along. _Going through mood swings? Just when I think I can get along with these assholes they say something like this_ , She thought bitterly. 

“I want to set something straight before we continue,” she said. He straightened at the hint of authority in her voice. 

“What is it, human, spit it out,” he grumbled. Frisk pursed her lips as she thought about what had happened between them in the square. Things had been semi-tense after that, and she wanted to clear the air. 

“What you did to that reporter, it really wasn’t ok… Sans did that to me, when you let him… hurt me, and I guess I just felt her pain and… I don't know. I'm— I apologise for embarrassing you in public though. I just… panicked," she murmured. Papyrus studied her, his eyes narrowing in the silence. She shrunk under his gaze. Both skeleton brothers had ways of making her shrink into herself and she hated it. Papyrus sighed. 

"You wouldn't even begin to understand the politics of this kill or be killed world. It was a necessary evil to command respect," he said. Frisk shook her head. It was always about respect. She had been in the same shoes, and knew men who also cared deeply about respect. Cared enough to murder for it. 

"No, I _do_ understand… I wish I didn't. Was she ok? Did she… survive?" Asked Frisk. Papyrus glanced out the window. 

"She ended up surviving. She was on her last light, but she had done it. I sent her free the next morning just as I had promised," he said. Frisk gulped and nodded slowly. 

"Were you going to really… do the same to me if I had, well," she murmured, her voice growing quieter. He narrowed his eyes at her once more. 

"...You're a curious one, human. Now, on to the brass of task," he said curtly. Frisk frowned at the fact he had dodged her question, but she took it. It would be the closest she would get to an apology. With that out of the way, the two began to plot their next steps. 

What was Mettaton even like? From what Papyrus said, he was an obnoxious, dramatic TV host. Frisk had never been a big TV person, mostly for that reason. She loved old movies, but television never grasped her attention. Her mind wandered as Papyrus went on. How could Monsters have television but not cars? Nothing made sense down here. The "sun", the "moon", the magic, the forests, the _demons._

The meeting went on as they planned together. Papyrus was excitable as they plotted and schemed together and Frisk let her inhibitions melt away. Giddiness overcame her as Papyrus cackled triumphantly. When he praised her on her good ideas, she glowed with pride. He was a narcissist, that was for sure, but there was something about him that was so full of life. She never felt in danger around him, even when he did awfully violent things like impale a woman because she asked him one to many questions. She trusted for some unknown reason that he wouldn't lay a finger on her. Papyrus wasn't one to go back on his word. 

With their scheme in her mind, she found herself growing excited for what was to come next. She had a feeling that she could only go up from where she was. Papyrus was sympathetic to her in his strange little way, and they were having fun. It was only a matter of time before she could worm her way out. If this was successful, no one should question her identity. She would become Moxie the Deformed Tiefling. She'd fit right in with the rest of the atrocities down there. Or… it could completely ruin her chances and expose her to the limelight. It was all so terribly thrilling. 

"Now go get ready, human. We'll leave for Hotland in a bit to get prepared for tonight," he ordered. She smiled and bounced up to her feet. 

_Meow—_ Frisk glanced over her shoulder to see those familiar silver eyes. Papyrus clicked his teeth and crooned for his shade. The shadow cat padded over to him and hopped into his lap. Frisk watched with fascination as he stroked the wisps of smokey shadow. It purred in his grasp and she smiled; however, one look from Papyrus was enough to send her out to get herself ready as he had ordered. 

⁂

Frisk stared at herself in the mirror as she held her mask in her hand. Muffet's suit hugged her curves in the most flattering ways and her inner narcissism couldn't help but shine through. She bit her lip and fluffed her hair around the faux tiefling horns. Flowey smiled at her and nodded his head. 

"It's a good look. Are you worried that they're going to… notice something off about you?" He asked. Frisk shrugged. 

"Of course, but eventually I need to stop being scared. I have nowhere else to go, and I really don't know how to leave the Underground. Besides… what's even waiting up there for me? I live here now, it's time I get used to it," she said, more to herself as she was faced with her new reality. Flowey looked at her with concern in his eyes. 

"Ok… so what _is_ your plan?" He asked. Frisk sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears before she strapped the mask to her face. The neutrality of the ivory and golden mask was empowering. She narrowed her eyes, smiled, cocked her brows. Any expression she made was hidden. Her humanity was hidden. She could do anything… she could _be_ anything… Frisk bit her lip. She could be brave… she could be kind and compassionate. She could be happy, or brash, or sweet. She didn't have to be the poor, damaged woman that she had been forced to be all her life. She was overwhelmingly free. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine and she grinned as she pulled on her overcoat and made her way downstairs. 

Papyrus was waiting for her. Sans was nowhere to be found. She glanced over her shoulder almost out of habit, and a sigh of relief escaped her at his absence. Papyrus scanned over her before giving a curt nod and leading her out of the house to his stable. 

She waited as he led Calibri out from the paddock and mounted his back. 

"Have you ridden before?" He asked. Frisk gulped as Calibri eyed her. The stars in his mane were like a thousand galaxies. Would she ever get used to the unicorn's sheer majesty? 

Papyrus rolled his eyes at her hesitation and held out his hand. She hesitantly took it and squeaked when he hoisted her into the air and dragged her into the saddle with him. 

"You may want to hold on," he grunted, before kicking Calibri into a trot. Frisk wrapped her arms around him as the unicorn broke into a canter down the snowy road. A smile lit her lips as the wind brushed through her hair. Riding on a unicorn was definitely something special. It was smooth, unlike a normal horse, and her soul seemed to resonate with the creature. The same calmness she had felt when she first encountered the beast swept over her once more and as the wintery forest blurred around her, she found herself dozing off. 

That fiery cold smoke surrounded them and Frisk gasped as they were whirled away. The only thing left was scarlet mist floating through the ice covered trees. 

Frisk choked as they clattered into a bright city that was nothing like Snowden. Horse carriages rattled around them, and bright neon lights burned into her eyes. Tall, needle-point skyscrapers towered over them. All around were bright signs, billboards and buildings. Teams of monsters crowded the streets and sidewalks. A huge sign with flashing yellow letters read out: _"WELCOME TO THE CORE"_

_The Core?_ She thought. She noticed that many of the buildings were connected and several were actually cooling towers, containment structures, generators and transformers. _It's one big power plant… it must be how they create their electricity._ The more she spent in the Underground, the more fascinated she became with it and how it worked. It was like she was Alice and this was Wonderland. She smiled at the allusion. _Curiouser and curiouser…_ She thought with a small smirk. 

She noticed a common theme among the billboards; a golden rectangular robotic figure telling people how they should think, act and feel. _“Take what you want; The Barrier is your limit!” “All Hail King Asgore; Defender of Demons!” “Someone out there is better than you… kill them if you dare!” “Only buy MTT approved merchandise!” “Don’t be caught red handed, or this could be you!”_ The last billboard then proceeded to play a clip of a monster ripping a fellow monster’s throat out in a gladiatorial battle. Frisk’s eyes widened and she turned away. Her stomach rolled at the blatant violence. 

The monsters around them seemed numb to propaganda being pumped into them, their eyes turned to the asphalt. Smoke wafted from cigars and cigarettes. Despite the grim messages, the city was startlingly beautiful. It’s bright lights, it’s action, the teams of carriages being drawn by decorated beasts. She recognized one animal; a pegasus. Her heart fluttered at the sight. The monsters in this district were all dressed to the nines as well. The tuxedos were tailored, and the women wore haute couture fashion that boggled Frisk’s mind. She hadn’t been around such luxury since she left Italy. 

The drowsiness induced by Calibri’s serene aura played with her mind, she once again found herself dozing off as the crowds blurred around her. As she fought to keep her eyes open and drink in the exciting city, she thought she saw the flicker of a familiar man in a flock of black and white suits. As she watched, the man turned around. Her heart stilled when she locked eyes with _Damian Valeska._

Frisk jolted up when she felt her body plummet and she gasped. She had fallen asleep! She blinked hard to clear her drowsiness and watched as the suit clad demons made their way down the way. It was just a bunch of storks and tuxedo cats. She had been dreaming… Damian wasn’t here. Her lip trembled and she looked up at Papyrus. 

“Are we almost there?” she asked, her voice trembling from the unease brought to her by the strange vision. Papyrus nodded curtly and Calibri turned down an even brighter street. She squinted as the billboards grew larger and more blinding. 

"I hate this place," grumbled Papyrus, and she couldn't really blame him. The loud, flashing signs were enough to give her a migraine. 

Eventually, they arrived at a giant, golden building; spotlights swept across the sky, signaling it's majesty. It was a spectacular sight, probably one of the most grandiose structures she had seen since she left Europe. It rivaled the Empire State Building in extravagance and wonder. A giant archway welcomed them into the sprawling gardens and vast parking lot filled with chariots, beasts and carriages. _MTT Resort and Studios._

Papyrus swung himself off of Calibri and dragged Frisk down from his saddle by her waist. She patiently watched as he paid a valet to take his unicorn to a VIP stable, then he nodded at Frisk when he was ready. She skipped into step behind him, practically jogging to keep up with his sweeping strides. They were greeted at the front doors by a host of flashing cameras and Papyrus shielded his face from the prying paparazzi. 

Frisk's heart thundered in her chest with the excitement of all the attention. She had never been treated like a celebrity before and she couldn't help but feel a tad giddy. There was that small nagging anxiety as well that whispered warnings to her. She was a human, and if people paid too much attention, they would be able to see. She'd be done for. _The brothers would protect me._ The thought was alarming. _No they wouldn't._ She reminded herself. Why would she even come to that conclusion? She was going crazy down here. She just needed to do this, if things went successfully, she would be able to get away scot-free. She just had to stick to the story. 

As they entered the grand hotel, they were instantly greeted by two demonesses. A chubby, cat-like monster and a taller, thinner, crocodilian monster at her side. 

"Hey! They're here! Oh perfect!" They crooned in unison. Papyrus ground his teeth with annoyance at the whole ordeal that had been forced into him. 

"Hey! I'm Kathy Baxi—" 

"—And I'm Brittany Becki—"

"—And we're going to like, take care of you while you're here today," said Kathy. Frisk nodded at the two. They were wildly dynamic and she could practically feel the energy bouncing off between them. Papyrus scoffed down at the two women. 

"Are you kidding me? Can't we be left alone for five seconds in this hell-hole!?" He spat. Brittany laughed nervously; her eyes shifted down to avoid looking at the skeleton and risk irritating him further. Frisk's heart went out to her. It didn't matter if they were monsters or not, Frisk had always had a soft spot for women, and why wouldn't she when women had only been there to help her and had never pushed her down. 

"We need to go over some key talking points… Oh-My-God… is that a Muffet original?" Rambled Kathy as she pulled Frisk aside to observe her suit. Papyrus cocked a brow bone and narrowed his eyes with scrutiny at Frisk. She stuttered helplessly at the bombarding questions. 

"Those are hella expensive, girl, did you, like, buy her this?" Asked Brittany, turning to Papyrus for explanations. Papyrus shook his head in bewilderment. 

"Of course not! I do not buy from _Muffet._ Believe me, that wench doesn't need anymore money in her checking account, _"_ he spat in disgust. Brittany and Kathy lowered their heads at his disregard for the fashion empress of the Underground. Only people with his status could be so blatantly rude about someone like her. 

"I didn't buy it," she admitted. Kathy's eyes bulged and she pinched the high quality suit jacket. 

"You stole it?" She whispered, her pupils narrowing into tiny slits. Frisk paled at the accusation and she quickly shook her head to clear the misunderstanding. 

"Of course not! Muffet, I met her… in person. She gave it to me," she explained. The ladies gaped in awe at the casualness about the little woman before them. Papyrus, on the other hand, was not so pleased. In fact, he choked when he heard it, his eyes wide with alarm. 

"She what!?" He barked. Frisk flinched at his loud voice. She looked across at the two and sighed. 

"She just gave it to me. Forget it," she muttered. Papyrus narrowed his eyes at her and leaned down. 

"We're going to have to return it," he whispered. Frisk looked at him with shock. _Why!? It's beautiful, I deserve at least some nice things, right? Jesus Christ._ She thought bitterly. Despite all her roaring protests, she decided it was best not to argue with him and merely shook her head sadly. 

Kathy glanced between the two before grunting. She waved off the subject and grinned a fanged grin. 

"Totally not relevant right now anyway. We need to like, get you in the studio and run over some guidelines for the interview tonight. It is going to be _fabulous_ ," she sang. Brittany nodded along with a matter-of-fact smugness about her. 

Flowey leaned out of the jacket when they started leading the way. 

"Well those two are fun…" he murmured. Frisk glanced down at him and giggled. 

"I like their energy," she said. Flowey grimaced and shook his head. 

"It's too much. It's too loud and bright. I wish we didn't have to do this," he whined. Frisk nodded along. She understood all of Flowey's complaints and anxiety, but this was just another hurdle to jump. Frisk had jumped a lot of hurdles in her day, and none had been as glamorous as this one. Was she wrong to feel excited? 

"Mettaton must think we're the biggest idiots alive," he grumbled. Frisk gave a scoffing laughter. 

"Oh please, Flowey don't be dramatic… or else you'll fit right in with the crowd," she teased. Flowey rolled his beady eyes in dismay. 

"Well I'm glad one of us is enjoying ourselves," he said, his pouty attitude causing Frisk to bubble with laughter. Papyrus cocked a brow bone and looked down at her. 

"What is so funny?" He growled. Frisk bit her lip and looked up at him. 

" _Rien_ ," she said with a mischievous grin. They came to a door with a star on it and Kathy pushed it open. 

"Ok! In you go, girl. Lieutenant Papyrus, you'll be in that room," she said, pointing a hot-pink claw at another dressing room. Papyrus stammered with dismay at being separated from Frisk and started to protest, but was cut off as Kathy ushered Frisk into her room. 

Once inside, Frisk sighed in relief and made her way to a chair. 

"Can I ask some personal questions?" Asked Brittany. Frisk frowned at her but shrugged and gestured for her to continue. _How personal are we talking?_ She thought as the two girls sat around her. 

"Who, like, burned your face?" She asked. Frisk eyed Brittany warily. How did she learn about that story? She had only told it to two people. Word must have spread quickly in the Underground. She pretended to act offended. Really the "burning of her face" had absolutely no emotional value in her mind, but Frisk had always been a good actress. 

"Oh… that _is_ a personal question," she murmured. Kathy slapped Brittany's arm. 

"What? She might as well get used to it. If she didn't want so much attention she shouldn't have, like, stood up to _the_ Papyrus on live television. Mettaton is going to be asking all sorts of nitty gritties," she said, waving off Kathy's piercing glare. Frisk nodded slowly. God what had she been thinking? 

"No, she's right… it was my…" there had to be some way she could infuse her own life with her character's. Lying did get rather tiresome. Even the smallest slip up could result in the truth unfolding. Her truth was a rather deadly one. She faltered as she pieced together her story. She sniffed and shook her head before continuing, "my husband," she whispered. 

"You have a husband? Oh, the scandal! Mettaton is going to love this!" Sang Brittany. Kathy cleared her throat and shook a tuft of her jet black hair out of her face. 

"Speaking of Mettaton, we have to, like, talk about some important conversation points. Mettaton has like a big movie coming out this spring so it will be important to somehow, like, _subtly_ guide the conversation to it. Like don't outright state it, only Mettaton can do that. So yeah, we don't want it to feel scripted because that's just yucky. But yeah. Also, we like, have a brand deal that we need to promote? Yeah, with Muffet, actually, what a coincidence! It's actually perfect that you wore that suit. Are you like a psychic? That'd be pretty cool!" Said Kathy, her eyes brightening with each word she said. Frisk chuckled wryly and shook her head. _Ah, advertising. They have made me into a walking promotion. Good going Frisk. You just_ had _to say something._ She thought bitterly. Advertising was definitely the number one reason she hated television and preferred vintage things. 

"Of course, no, I can totally do that," she said with a firm nod. Brittany pursed her lips. 

"So… is the mask really necessary? You look so… emotionless," she grunted. Frisk gulped and quickly tried to think up a convincing lie. 

"Well… everyone needs a good poker face. It keeps up the intrigue, don't you think? If everyone saw my scars… I'd just be another freak they could point and laugh at. At least with the mask they gotta earn it," she said with false confidence. Kathy's eyes widened, her pupils dilating with wonder. 

"Wow, you are like, _totes_ inspiring. Mettaton is going to _love you!"_ She squealed. Frisk allowed herself to laugh along with the two girls. It was always nice to have girlfriends. God knew it was much better than the company men gave. At least girls didn't expect something from her after a few niceties were paid. 

"So… what is Mettaton like?" She asked. Kathy and Brittany both hesitated and glanced at each other wearily. Brittany forced a smile that Frisk herself had forced many a time. 

"Oh my God, _Mettaton._ He is like, so amazing—"

"—He is my robot husband!" Cried Kathy. There was no smile in their eyes and Frisk swallowed. The both of them forced a girlish squeal, but no more was said in the subject. 

The girls continued chatting and giving Frisk the rundown on how these interviews went. Soon enough, Frisk was practically frogmarched down the golden halls and reunited with Papyrus who had his own personal entourage pleading and begging that he not drive a bone through the camera men's hearts… or Mettaton's. Papyrus gave Frisk a weary, pleading look that made her crack an amused smirk. Looks like they were both regretting their decisions to speak out. 

They were escorted onto a studio set for a fabulous, restaurant dining hall. 

"I thought they'd never stop talking. God this is awful," murmured Flowey when he finally felt he had the room to speak. Frisk shook her head warily. 

"They weren't that bad," she said. She was starting to get the sense that this Underground wasn't so much of a hell as it had been made out to be. That really the only ones that were cruel and hurtful were the tyrants in charge. She was sure she'd feel differently if everyone knew she was a human, or if she had truly grown up here. There was a lot she didn't understand. A lot she had to learn. 

"Hello _dahlings!"_ Cried a dramatic, robotic voice. She jumped with shock and looked up as the host finally made his appearance. He wasn't anything like the signs she had seen, he was somehow _more_ . She was also completely shocked to see him in person for the simple fact that she had never seen anything like him. His gilded rectangular body sparkled in the flashy spotlights, and his TV screen face emoted several faces upon meeting his guests. He had four arms that each seemed to be doing something, and he was _loud._ Much like Papyrus but not nearly as adversarial. 

"Mettaton, we're live in five," announced one of the stage managers following him about. Mettaton waved him off as he rolled toward Frisk and Papyrus. 

"PAPY! Dahling, so glad you came! The audience is going to love this! And is this her? I've heard so much about her!" He squealed. Papyrus cocked a brow and shot a panicked look at Frisk. She rolled her shoulders back and held out her hand. 

"Hello, I'm… Moxie," she said. His TV face lit up with an electronic smile and he gave her his hand to shake. Her smile fell when he gave her a limp hand and quickly reeled it away. _Um, ok?_ She thought. 

"Of course you are!—"

"—I'm confused, since when was she so talked about? Who told you about her?" He asked. An image of someone rolling their eyes popped up on his TV face. 

"Ugh, so many questions from this one," he said dramatically. A manager came to them and began ushering the two guests off screen as Mettaton went to sit at the set dining table. The lights dimmed and two spotlights came on to show him. Frisk could feel her heart thundering when the reality of this interview began to completely sink in. Papyrus glanced at her and grunted. 

"I've always hated this show. I've always hated all of Mettaton's stupid shows. He only does this to make fun of us you know, and to promote his stupid little movies and albums. Don't think for a second he's any kind of respectful. Why would he be when Asgore made him into one big propaganda machine?" He growled. Frisk frowned, her hands were shaking. Flowey grunted in agreement, and the two, flower and skeleton, shared an ounce of understanding. 

"And we're live in _three...two...—"_

"—Good evening Underground! Welcome back to the Who's Who of Hell! Welcome back to Dinner with Mettaton!" An automated applause blasted from the speakers. Frisk looked around at the faces of the monsters who worked the equipment. They all looked so dead inside, their long frowns on their faces were a tell of just how tired they were. 

"How many hours do they work?" She asked hesitantly. Papyrus shrugged. 

"Who knows," he uttered. Frisk frowned at the dismissive answer. 

"Tonight I have two very special surprise guests to start us off. One made time out of his grueling schedule to make an appearance and put nightmares into your children's dreams! Give it up for the Great, the Terrible, Lieutenant Papyrus!" He said in that stereotypical announcer's voice. The stage managers prodded Papyrus and Frisk and he trudged on as if 

he was being held at gunpoint. A wild laugh track began to roar as soon as he came on set and he glowered at Mettaton. Frisk timidly came to sit down with Papyrus. 

"Welcome! I have a fine evening planned for us. Papyrus, how have been, dahling? Been well?" He gestured to Frisk. 

"I bet you've been well. Rumor has it that this little minx is rustling in your sheets, any comment on that?" Frisk choked at the suggestive accusation, and Papyrus narrowed his eyes, a tint of pink dusting his bony cheeks. 

"How dare you—"

"—That's not true. The Brothers have been nothing but professional," she said. Mettaton turned to her and flashed a smile. 

"Have you been professional?" He asked teasingly. There was an automated _"ooo"_ over the speakers and Frisk bit her cheek. She now understood why Papyrus hated this robot. 

"You know when I watched the clip of you telling off the Lieutenant Papyrus, I couldn't help but wonder where you got all of that bravery. Or compassion. I, for one, couldn't care less about Ms. Sirene, or anyone for that matter. But then, this little voice jumps out in the crowd and demands you have a little more compassion. You definitely caught my attention. What was going on in your head to make you do that?" He asked. _I was going through mood swings. Didn't have my head about me. The things Papyrus wants me to say… I have a chance to speak out against this shit. I have to be careful though, wouldn't want to end up like Frederick._

"I've been surrounded by violence all my life and—"

"—Oh, yes, haven't we all," he interrupted. A collection of _aws_ sounded off and Frisk took in a steady breath to recollect herself after the interruption. Papyrus grunted knowingly and sat back. 

"...So anyway, surrounded by violence all my life. I was just sick of it. I was sick of seeing people attack those less fortunate. I mean, I've been vulnerable before and I've been attacked… so I guess I had a little bit of empathy," she explained. Papyrus glared down at her when he realized she was going against their personal script. He cleared his throat to warn her. She quieted down and looked away. She had said what she'd needed to say. Mettaton gave a mocking laugh and looked at the camera. 

"Well you're not the only one who expressed those sentiments. Frederick Drake, a hilarious comedian. We all loved him, did we not? Yeah. A shame he couldn't stay away from the political jokes. Always awful when people try to bring politics into a conversation," he said. Frisk bit the inside of her cheek. Why did she have the feeling that at the end of this they would get murdered on live television? 

"Frederick Drake was a clown who didn't know when to stop honking his horn. We're all better off without him," spat Papyrus. Mettaton laughed and nodded at the camera. 

"Well, Moxie doesn't think so. Did you watch a lot of Freddy Drake?" He asked. Frisk didn't know how to respond. Of course she had never watched a single skit done by the infamous comedian. 

"Um… no. I didn't, I never watched him. I was never a big television watcher," she admitted. Mettaton gasped dramatically, which prompted an eye roll from Papyrus. 

"Not a television watcher!? How else do you get your information then?" He asked. Frisk shrugged timidly, but before she could answer, Papyrus cut in.

"Like _your_ news is information," he spat. A collection of automated boos resounded from the speaker and Mettaton sighed tensely. Frisk glanced across at a stage manager. He was shaking his head and watching a monitor. TV ratings. 

"I… I like movies!" Stammered Frisk. Mettaton's eyes lit up at the prompt. 

"Moxie, you're so right. Movies are what keeps my soul alive. Speaking of movies, that leads me to my new movie, Love in the Arena! In theatres this spring. You won't want to miss it!" He announced. An automated applause. Frisk nodded and sat back. She could cross that off of her list of worries.

"I'll be there," she whimpered. Mettaton winked at her. 

"I would hope so! Too bad I didn't discover you soon enough. Have you ever acted before, dahling?" He asked. Frisk tilted her head in confusion. 

"Oh...no, no." Mettaton mumbled with disappointment. Papyrus scoffed and shook his head with disbelief.

"How like you to put a movie out right after the Vernal Purge," he growled. Mettaton sat back and nodded to him. 

"Well, truth be told Papyrus, the public needs something to be happy about. We can't all have beautiful maids working for us," said Mettaton. Papyrus sighed in exasperation as Frisk shifted uncomfortably at the blatant suggestion. 

"Oh please. Perhaps you forgot her awful deformation," he spat. Frisk seethed under her mask. She wasn't really deformed, but there was that small voice inside that said it was more than physicalities. That Papyrus saw all of her flaws. _Oh, would you stop that?_

"Well you're not wrong there, Papyrus. However, despite however hideous that face is underneath, you have to admit, that body is just so lovely. Stand up dahling, give us a spin," he ordered. Papyrus clenched his jaw and shot a glare at Frisk. Frisk froze, she could feel her stomach filling with dread and she balled her fists. 

"Oh for the sake of the old Kings would you give her a break? You're making yourself look like a pervert," he grunted. Frisk shrunk into herself. 

"Alright, alright. I meant nothing by it. All I meant is that, tieflings are far and few between, they're the closest thing we have to humans. Human bodies are the ideal bodies. I've said this many times. Yes, they're filled with hatred and are evil to the bone, but I think we can all agree that evil has its temptations. Only an idiot would turn down his temptations!" Frisk tensed and found herself shrinking further behind Papyrus. 

"I'd rather not talk about the appealing physique of our worst enemy," he growled. Mettaton nodded and looked at the camera. His stage manager was dragging his hand along his neck and shaking his head. The star robot nodded subtly and flashed a dazzling, electric smile. 

"Speaking of _appealing_ , we have quite the dish prepared for us after a short break." Frisk bolted up as the cameras drooped down and they were cleared to break. Mettaton looked up at her with a smug shrewdness as Papyrus sprung up after her and followed her out. 

"I should've never agreed to this. He's being sick. What was I expecting?" Snarled Papyrus when he followed her into a unisex dressing room. Frisk hunched over the counter. 

"I'm sorry Papyrus, I'm sorry I caused you all of this trouble, really," she whimpered. Her voice was shaking. Papyrus's gaze softened and he sighed. 

"Well of course that was _your_ fault… but don't be sorry about Mettaton. He's a talentless hack that thrives off of hurting and stepping on other people. Even those better than him," he grumbled. _Well then you two are more alike than you think, prick. Wait… hold on…_

"Everyone is talking about me working for you. They think something is going on between us Papyrus," she said, dipping her voice in honey. Papyrus rose a brow bone as Flowey peaked his head out. 

"That seems so. It is only because they have nothing better to do than gossip," he said. Frisk bit her lip as she tried to push her plan into motion. 

"Do you think it would be wise if I… found work in other places? Just so they stop paying so much attention to us? I don't want to turn you into a scandal," she said. Papyrus hummed with thought, and paced about the floor like he so often did. 

"She'd still live with you, because… well, the obvious reason, but if she could just—" 

"—Shut it weed, this is between the… _Moxie_ and I," he whispered. Flowey shot him a withering look. Frisk rolled her eyes at the exchange. 

"I could work in Snowden… for Bonnie's sister at the Inn. She's hiring," she supplied. Papyrus narrowed his eyes at her. 

"And what is wrong with working for me?" He asked. _A lot of things…_ she wanted to say, but she didn't. 

"Nothing! I just… well, being paid would be nice. I don't want you or Sans to have to buy me anything and, just to clear the rumors that you're… that we're doing things," she explained. This was actually perfect! If Papyrus saw her sense, he would probably go through with it! She wouldn't be completely free, but she'd have that. She'd be able to start living more for herself. 

"I suppose you are right… at least until this blows over… I'll have to run it by Sans, though," he murmured. _Jesus, I'll never get anything done if he goes through that bastard!_

"Why do you need Sans's approval? You're the Great Papyrus. Who is Sans compared to you? Last I checked, you made the rules," she said. Papyrus considered this with a growing smirk. 

"You have a lot of wisdom, Frisk. I will consider it," he said. _He used my name!_ A smile grew on her face. Oh she was going to win! _Fucking finally!_ Out of every shitty circumstance in her life, out of it all… she would win. 

"Hey! You two, we're back on in three minutes," called a stage manager. Papyrus smirked down at her. 

"Back into the lion's den," she said softly. Papyrus grunted in agreement. 

"If I don't murder him by the end of the interview that is," he whispered. She laughed and the two shared a bubbling comradery as they made their way back on set with the vile robot. 

⁂

Sans sat hunched over at the bar. Grillby flickered over him as he gave him another drink. Both of their eyes were glued to the TV as they watched Dinner with Mettaton. 

Sans gulped down his drink and groaned when Mettaton mentioned _the ideal sexy body._ It was a known fact that Mettaton was obsessed with humans. It was actually pretty sick, even to Sans. _He's not wrong._ Whispered that devilish voice on his shoulder. 

When the commercial break ended, Sans rolled his eyes and stared down at his drink as the robot's voice blared through the speakers. Grillby chuckled and leaned back. 

"Sans! Buddy!" Barked Doug. Sans rolled his head to look at the werewolf lumbering over to him. 

"Peel your eyes off the fuckin' tellie for a second and put them on those beautiful bunnies," he slurred, leaning against the bar as he gestured to the current pole dancer. Sans sighed and glanced over his shoulder. Alice, a pinkish-peach bunny who was Grillby's favorite whore, smiled brightly at his attention and winked at him. Sans rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV. 

"He's got his eye on one woman already," said Grillby with a devilish smirk. Alice frowned, but one gesture from Grillby was enough to put her back in a faux good mood. Sans narrowed his eyes at the fire imp. 

"Oh, the fuckin' maid? You know what's crazy Grillby?" Doug asked. Grillby spared a disinterested glance in Doug's direction as Sans clenched his glass. 

"They found Moxie 'round the same time Garg and Lez chased a human out-n-the woods. Isn't that crazy?' he slurred, hitting the back of Sans. Grillby rose a brow and glanced at Sans with a suggestive twinkle in his fiery, white eyes. 

"Yes. It is—extremely coincidental," he murmured. Sans glanced nonchalantly up at the TV. 

"One: I ain't got my eye on anyone. Two: We found Moxie before that. None of you knew about it because she was in such bad shape. There might still be a human out there, but it's more than likely dead already. Think about it. It's been, what, four weeks since then? Let it go, Doug. He's been at his little mental gymnastics since the dogs told him," he explained as he watched Frisk talk about her love of old music and movies. He smiled softly. 

Ever since that night when he had taken his anger out on her, and she had stared up at him with those fearful, hate-filled eyes, something in him snapped. He didn't know why. Maybe because she was a woman. He had thought that he wouldn't feel anything because humans were the enemy, that taking out his rage on a human would be easy. Humans who definitely deserved every ounce of pain on this God Forsaken earth. He was wrong. 

Hearing her cries, chokes and agony did nothing but make him feel absolutely awful. He thought he'd enjoy it. He usually did when torturing one of Papyrus's many enemies, but… Frisk wasn't an enemy. 

Seeing her shaking, on her knees, sobbing, he had just wanted to get stricken down. She had been right too, when she had criticized him. He had been mad over someone using his old man's title. A man of course, that had put him through more pain and torture than anyone alive had. He had reason to be mad, but… she was right when she had criticized his coping mechanisms. He hadn't admitted it though. 

After she had glared up at him with those pretty, brown eyes of hers, filled with angry tears, and after she had pushed him in her newfound rage, he felt nothing but shame. He had been a bit dismayed to figure out that she had wormed her way into his mind without having to play with his ego. She hadn't done a single thing to manipulate him. He didn't want to lay a finger on her again though. Nothing in the world made him feel more revolted. Especially after he had figured out that she used to be like Lola up there on that pole. 

The shit she must've gone through; and he had been awful. He felt awful. Absolutely sickened with himself. He didn't know how to atone for it though. The underground was a place where you took what you wanted by force if necessary. He didn't know how he would make it up to her or if it was even worth it. There was no way he would ever apologize, and there was no way she'd ever forgive him. Besides, what would happen afterwards if they did? Nothing. _She certainly has a way of wrapping people around her little finger._

Then to find out that she had been married! He took another gulp of his mustard. His mind was beginning to blur. He didn't want to think about her anymore. How much she got into his head was astonishing, but he couldn't take it anymore. All it did was make him feel like a complete ass. He didn't know what to do, and he was just a piece of shit. That's what people expected him to be. _Fuck._

"Turn that shit off," he growled. Grillby shot him a puzzled look but did what his best customer told him to do. 

"Ya look like ya need to get fucked up, mate—Grillby! Give him anotha drink!" Slurred Doug. Sans nodded and gestured at Grillby. The fire imp sighed and left the two alone. 

"I know it's been tense between you and I, but I just want to say, fuck it. Fuck it! You have my back, Sans, and you're right about that shit. Let's just… forget it!" Sans looked up at Doug with a disinterested frown. _This bitch._ He thought bitterly. He tried to relax his ever-present grin and held out his hand. 

"Sounds good, it's a truce then," he said as Grillby put down another pint. The two sentries clinked glasses and began to down their liquor. In places like hell, one had to drink away their worries, and drink them away often. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a little bit of a Papyton tease even though I don't ship it and it won't actually be a thing, but I thought it would be fun to have a chapter with the two. Also now Frisk's identity in the Underground has been solidified which can either... work really well in her favor orrrr well, you get the idea. 
> 
> Up next: Sans makes some interesting decisions while drunk and someone decided to finally investigate their suspicions. 
> 
> If you like this story please don't forget to drop a comment and a kudos to show your appreciation. I love reading your feedback so don't be shy!


	14. Defiance

**A/N: I would like to share some art that was drawn for this story by yours truly!**

**[Le Petit Chaperon Rouge ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/83hf7aKBSq2wee8s5) **

**Now without further adieu, please enjoy Ch. 14! Xoxo**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Defiance.

* * *

The dead of night. Frisk hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Especially not after the interview with Mettaton. Papyrus had completely lost his temper after a certain question targeted at his family. It still played over in her mind. She had never seen such rage before. 

_ "Now Papyrus, perhaps I'm spitballing here, but you've been in the Royal Guard for almost six years now? I think one wonders just how someone like you, someone from the Reaper race, gets to such a position after the epidemic that—" _

_ "—Where is this going? I don't want to talk about the Grim epidemic. That was years ago."  _

_ "What is the Grim… nevermind."  _

_ "I just want to know how you got into such a high position in the Royal Guard. Bribery?"  _

_ "I don't know why this is a question. Reapers are one of the most powerful races in the history of Monsterkind. To not have a reaper as part of the Royal Guard would be ludacris—" _

_ "—Then why not your brother Sans? Some speculate that  _ he  _ was the one to get you into the Royal Guard… after that brawl with the General… always second aren't you Papyrus?"  _

_ "That is preposterous! Are you implying that I would've never made it by my own merit!? The audacity of this obnoxious toaster! If we're going to dig up our dirty laundry, perhaps everyone should know that you were invented by a bloody heroin addict!"  _

A fight had broken out, and security was called. There was a hasty commercial break and they were "escorted" out of the studio. A news crew was awaiting them outside; flash photography and shouting. Frisk had been overwhelmed and in shock. 

Papyrus had apologized for losing his temper as they got back home. He then added,  _ "If anything, my outburst gave him higher ratings. It's a win for him no matter what the situation. Bastard."  _

Sans was nowhere to be found and she relished in the freedom to take a bath while Papyrus threw a fit over the absence of his brother. She shivered in the tub as she remembered her drowning. It hadn’t been the worst thing that had happened to her… but it was definitely on the list. 

Now she lay in bed, wrapped in a towel for the sole reason that she was too lazy to put night clothes on. As she lay awake, staring at the darkness of her room, the downstairs mudroom door slammed shut and a loud groan signaled the arrival of the oldest brother. She froze and looked at her door. She listened for any other noises. He was alone.

The creak of the stairs and she pulled the covers closer to her chin. An icy dread filled her. She had no reason to be so scared, but she couldn't help it. She had always had bad feelings in times like these. There was a stall in the noisy ascent and her breath hitched in her throat when a soft knock came at her door.  _ What the fuck?  _ She thought. 

"Shit," grumbled a softer voice from the other side. She clenched her jaw and pulled her covers up more. She glanced at Flowey, who was sound asleep by the window. 

"Go to bed Sans…" the skeleton grumbled from the other side of her door before breaking down into a wheeze of laughter. He shushed himself and knocked on her door again. 

"She's not gonna answer, you freak," he whispered again, before laughing again.  _ He's drunk, he's totally drunk. That fucking creep.  _ She thought. Her eyes were wide with fear. She had dealt with many drunk men, and she wasn't exactly prepared for a drunk skeleton. 

She looked down at herself, she was in nothing but a towel!  _ To be fair, I didn't expect this,  _ she thought as she started to scold herself. She nodded and threw her covers off. She slipped a sweater on as quietly as possible.  _ What does this jackass want? I should stay in bed… he'll leave eventually right?  _

"What am I doing? What are you  _ doing _ to me kid?" He murmured.  _ What? What the fuck!?  _ Confusion filled her. She listened as he stooped down, the pop of his knees cutting through the night. She swayed away from the door when he slid something through. There was a lingering pause where he didn't say anything else. She looked down at what he had slid under her door and tilted her head curiously.  _ A record?  _

"Fuck," grumbled Sans before she heard him lumber down the hallway. A shaky breath left her and she grabbed the strange gift. She had not been expecting this. She went to her lamp and flicked it on to study the record. A soft smile lit her face. The Beatles. A little water logged, she had no idea where he got it, but… it was The Beatles. It was a human band, with very human songs.  _ Revolver  _ was the album, and she couldn't help but get the widest grin. She wasn't the biggest Beatles fan, but it was the thought that counted. Her eyes welled up. 

Frisk bit her lip and glanced at her door. She ran her thumb over the vinyl and shook her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. He was so strange… she didn't understand a single thing about him. Was this his way of apologizing? It was a bit unorthodox, showing up at her bedroom door at midnight, drunk, only to slide a Beatles album under her door. There was something strangely sweet about the act. It didn't make up for his actions though. 

She drew a frown on her face and set the record down on her desk before turning out the lamp. It had been a long, hard day. She didn't want anymore complications. She just needed rest.  _ Fuck him. I sure as hell don't need to be toyed with like this. Fuck him.  _

_ "Les hommes; ils sont tous les mêmes,"  _ she muttered under her breath as she forced herself to go to bed. 

⁂

That morning, as she tiredly swayed in the kitchen, cooking breakfast, her thoughts wandered back to the interview. To the time she had mentioned that she preferred older music when Mettaton mentioned one of his new albums and asked for her taste. She smiled. She would definitely listen to the album today once the skeletons had left.  _ Speaking of which,  _ she thought as she heard Papyrus stomp down the stairs. 

“Ah, Human, I see you are awake. I have a list of chores for you… and I slept on what we discussed yesterday…” he trailed off for effect and her heart spiked as the fate of her life hung in his hands. She turned to him and flashed a heart-melting smile. 

“I’ve decided that it would be best if you applied for the job at Charlotte’s Inn. Please keep in mind that you are still a human, so you’ll obviously still have to—”

“—Thank you! Thank you,” she said breathlessly. Papyrus grunted and pushed past her to plate breakfast for himself. 

“This isn't… some kind of scheme is it? Sans has told me that you're manipulative and you have an endgame. I think we have an understanding, Human. I would like to trust you," he said quietly. Frisk clenched her fists as she got herself breakfast as well. How would she get out of this? Of course she had an endgame; be independent. Live for herself. She didn't know how she would do that. She wasn't stupid. She knew leaving the brothers might lead to her horrible death… maybe what she wanted was security. Respect.  _ Respect.  _ Something she had never really had. A say in things. She wanted a say in things and she wanted to be respected enough to be listened to. She wanted to be happy. Was that bad? 

"Do you want me to be honest?" She murmured. Papyrus caught her in his eyes. His silence was a signal to continue.  _ What are you doing?  _

"I just want… to not be hurt anymore," she whispered. Papyrus rose a brow and turned away. 

"Is that all?" He grunted. Frisk shrugged helplessly and grabbed a fork. 

"Fuck." Sans was awake. Papyrus rolled his eyes at the intrusion. 

"Look who decided to join us!  _ Finally.  _ Where were you last night?" He barked. Sans lumbered into the kitchen and groaned, his hand pressed fervently to his forehead. Frisk turned away when she realized he was in nothing but a t-shirt and his boxers. 

"Shit. Sorry, boss. I was—"

"—You're not even dressed! There is a lady in our presence," spat Papyrus with disgust. Frisk sighed and hastily vacated the kitchen to the informal dining room.  _ Jesus can this morning get any more uncomfortable?  _

"Oh is that what she is? Fuck! Do we have any… Oooh… bacon!" His discombobulated words rang through the house. Papyrus shot Frisk a dismayed look and she smiled nervously. 

"I'm going to ask again, where were you?" Growled Papyrus. Sans sighed in exasperation and got a plate. 

"Nowhere," he said. Papyrus scowled at his older brother's carelessness. Frisk just wanted to shrink away from the inevitable fight. She’d been around the block a couple of times to know when things were about to get physical. 

" _ Nowhere.  _ You were at Grillby's weren't you?" He accused. Sans shook his head and practically threw himself into the seat opposite of Frisk. He eyed her with a hint of wry humor, before starting to eat. She watched with both fascination and fear. How did a Skeleton eat? She didn't understand. He was definitely hungover though. That was for sure. 

"I don't understand why you gotta make every conversation into a Goddamn federal case. Oh my God, my head. Why, what happened? I honestly don't remember. One second I was in Snowden, watching…  _ you,”  _ he pointed at Frisk, _ “ _ and you on the big screen, and then blackness," he laughed until his laughter caused a sharp pang in his head and he groaned. Papyrus snarled and stomped over to him. 

"When did you get back?" He spat into Sans's face. He growled at his younger brother and pushed him away.  _ Oh Jesus _ , thought Frisk frantically. Sans glanced at her before his grin turned into more of a grimace.

"Fuck if I know! I just said I blacked out!" He roared. Frisk jumped up from the table. 

"Twelve. Midnight. He came back at midnight," she said hastily as she fled into the kitchen. Papyrus had dragged Sans out of his seat before her words slapped them both across the face. Papyrus growled. 

"Midnight!? You got drunk and then… you are an embarrassment! To think that I'm second to you!" Papyrus threw Sans onto the ground, and his older brother stumbled back to his feet. 

"Fuck you! God, I'm not doin’ this right now, it's seven o'clock in the fuckin’ morning… I'm gonna throw up," he groaned. Papyrus was seething with rage as he paced his living room floor. Frisk ran a hand through her hair as memories of her fights with Damian flooded her mind. She couldn't take this. She had to stop this. But how? 

Papyrus shoved Sans, and Sans shoved back. Frisk screamed from the kitchen as she watched. She couldn't handle this violence anymore!  _ Take control!  _ She couldn't live like this anymore!  _ Stop being a victim and take control!  _

"Stop it!" She cried hoarsely, her soul was glowing bright red in her chest. She was filled with determination. Sans stumbled away from his infuriated brother and Papyrus shot her a look. 

"Stay out of this!" He demanded. Frisk sneered at him. She'd had enough of both of these idiots. Her soul burned as she clenched her fists. 

"God damnit," groaned Sans as he leaned breathlessly against the archway. 

"You two are so  _ fucking  _ infuriating!  _ Vous êtes tous les deux comme Damian! Je ne peux pas baiser crois que je suis coincé ici!"  _ She screamed. Both Sans and Papyrus were taken aback at her outburst. Sans tilted his head as he gazed at her. She locked eyes with him and something in her soul flickered.  _ Don't think for a second I'm defending you…  _

"Oh, shit, Paps, pardon her French," he said hesitantly, a shit-eating grin growing on his face as he gazed at her with a newfound, tender curiosity. Frisk took several wary breaths as she gathered herself, before his snarky comment hit her like a train. Her eyes widened and she fought to hide a growing smile.  _ That bastard! He did not just—Oh fuck him!  _ She forced a hard frown on her face, but the damage was done and he grinned.  _ I'm going to slap that stupid shit-eating grin off his stupid face.  _

"Did you just make a joke?" Grumbled Papyrus. Sans looked up at his brother and began to laugh. Papyrus groaned and shoved past him. 

"Oh… go play with yourself you degenerate. If you're not at your post by the time I make my rounds, I'm going to kill you," he growled as he stomped out from the house. Sans sighed, gave Frisk one last lingering gaze, and loped upstairs to get ready. 

Frisk staggered back against the wall and gasped. A large smile grew on her face. She had won! Sure, Sans had taken the wind out of her sails with his stupid joke, but she had  _ won.  _ She let herself give a small victory dance. She had the opportunity to work at Snowed Inn and make her own way through this hell,  _ and  _ she had stood up to the brothers. 

Her large, victorious smile melted into a smaller smirk as she smoothed her shirt.  _ Ok, let's get these chores done.  _ She thought as she made her way into the kitchen to get Papyrus's list. Just a few simple chores. Nothing that would take her all day. 

She sighed and stashed it in her back pocket. As she turned around, she saw Sans leaning against the entrance. He was watching her again. She shivered and looked for a way out. Would he be mad at her for what happened? He didn't seem to remember anything from last night. He was probably completely out of it when he got her that album. The thought made her give a wry laugh. 

"Hey," he murmured. She looked at him with a hardened twinkle in her eyes. 

"What is it, sir?" She asked coldly. It wouldn't be long before she would be out of their grasp. Sans rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Nothin… you're just interesting, I guess," he said with a shrug. She froze and stared at the chinaware displayed in a glass case. Anything to keep herself from looking at him. 

"What do you mean by that? I… I'm afraid I don't understand." She fumbled with her hands and rubbed the sides of her thigh with her nerves. What was he going to do? She couldn't tell if he was trying to apologise, trying to intimidate or trying to… she didn't know. 

"Yeah, neither do I. You're just… you're such a mystery. I'll be honest, you take up a lot of space in the ole' cranium… I didn't," he scoffed with laughter as he battled with his words. She glanced at him from under her thick lashes and he sighed. "I didn't do anything last night, did I? Because you knew when I got back and—" 

"—Oh no! No, I just, I was… I was also awake." She tried to ignore his musings about her, about how he thought about her. It wasn't comforting. How did he think of her?  _ Disgusting creep. Probably either wants to fuck me or kill me. We'll be out soon.  _

He looked away and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked nervous, like he wanted to say something but didn't exactly know how to phrase it. Or if it was worth saying. 

"Can't sleep?" She stared down at her feet as he tossed the question at her. 

"I guess… I mean, I haven't been able to sleep for a while."  _ No thanks to you asshole.  _ Sans sighed and nodded with understanding. 

"Yeah neither can I. You know what I do?" He asked as he rubbed his forehead.  _ I don't care.  _

"What?" Frisk paced away from him, the list of chores burning a hole in her back pocket. He eyed her; she was a puzzle he didn't have all the pieces to. A puzzle that he just knew made a beautifully dark picture if he just…He was an asshole, and he didn't know how to make it better. If he even wanted to make it better. This world didn't reward kind people. 

"Well, I climb out onto the roof and look at the wishing stones. I wallow in self pity for a little bit and then I go back inside. I don't know. Maybe that's something you'd want to give a try," he said softly. She felt her soul flicker and she bit her lip as they stared each other down. That...dark gaze. Those black holes that sucked her in and didn't ever let her go. She was starting to find something comfortable in that abyss. She didn't know why, or what it was… but she no longer felt fear when she looked into those burning voids.

She blinked and broke the stare. She could only gaze upon the abyss for so long before she needed to come back to earth. She landed back onto reality and scowled. Why was he doing this? What did he want? Fine. 

"...The Beatles?" When he shot her a puzzled look, she continued, "You… last night, you came to my door, knocked, and then slipped a Beatles vinyl album underneath. And then you left," she said. He searched his memory, but sighed with defeat when he found nothing. 

"I must've… fuck if I know. I should get going. Wouldn't want Paps to put my bones in a grave… Hey, thanks for stepping in kid… things could've gotten ugly," he said as he made his way to the mudroom. Frisk smiled softly at the praise. 

"Goodbye," she called. As she stood alone in the kitchen, echoes of the voices played in her mind. 

_ "Thanks for stepping in kid… things could've gotten ugly," _

_ “You know when I watched the clip of you telling off the Lieutenant Papyrus, I couldn't help but wonder where you got all of that bravery. Or compassion.” _

_ "When I saw you, I felt hope, and now that you're here, not dead by Toriel's hands… I know that you're exactly what the Underground has been needing all these years." _

_ "I think you'll do wonderful things for the Underground…" _

_ "If you keep up this childish compassion during this  _ war,  _ it's gonna bite you in the ass."  _

_ "People don't want you to talk. People don't want you to preach. You're not a pastor, you're a whore."  _

She shook her head clear of the voices and ran her hand through her hair. How long had she been down here? She counted the days from when she had first plummeted. A month. A full month had passed. Where was Damian now? Had he completely forgotten about her? Part of her was rather disappointed. Even though he had been awful, she had still been married to him for three years… there were things between them nobody would ever be able to understand. 

Like when he had stood up to his father in her honor. When his father had called her a whore and banned him from marrying her into the family. She had truly fallen in love with him when he proclaimed his love for her and announced they would move to the United States and be wed. She had wanted nothing more than to be loved. To be safe. And she had that. She had that for a year. 

Then, as they always do, things became very rotten. The family business followed Damian to the United States and her life was surrounded with blood and souls. 

She would be crazy however, if she missed him. She didn't. She never lied awake longing for the embrace of Damian Valeska. She knew what that would mean for her. An embrace would be followed by a slap. She had stopped missing Damian a long time ago. 

Still… no sign of him. A month already and no sign of him at all. Perhaps she was free from him? Perhaps he had finally decided to let her be.  _ You'll never be free of the memories.  _

  
  


⁂

Five o’clock. Her chores were finally finished. She began getting ready to leave for Snowden and try to apply at the hotel like Papyrus had told her. As she pulled her boots on, Flowey piped up. 

“I just… I want to understand… he gave you his blessing to work at Snowed Inn?” he asked, a bit baffled. Frisk shrugged as she tucked her t-shirt into her dress pants. Flowey followed her with his eyes as she practically ran around the room to get ready. The last thing, besides of course her mask and overcoat, was a sports jacket with a red stripe on the sleeves. 

“I think he’s in love with you or something, because that’s honestly so insane…” he mumbled. Frisk laughed at the idea. 

_ “Un homme amoureux est une chose dangereuse,” _ she murmured. Flowey nodded and climbed onto her shoulder once she held out her hand. Horns rose from her hair and she sighed. Time to go. With a giddy step, she skipped out from the house and began her walk into town. 

She shivered with both the cold and delight at being able to walk freely by herself. The chandeliers of ice that draped over her from the crystalline trees twinkled like diamonds. She had to give it to the monsters, hell was absolutely beautiful. Walking through the wintry forest brought her back to her childhood home in Yviore. The familiarity bubbled in the pit of her stomach and she felt herself smile. She began to softly sing the sweet melody of  _ La Vie En Rose  _ as she spun wistfully through the woods. 

As she swelled on the chorus, she heard a rough growl. She gasped and stumbled back. Flowey jumped out of her trance and bared his seedy mouth. 

"Oh ho, look who it is," snarled a shadowy figure. She choked and held up her gloved hands. 

"Who's there!? I—"

"—I'm not gonna do no'fin, calm down lassy…" sneered the monster. Out stepped a wolfish demon. She remembered him immediately; he was one of the soldiers who hung Frederick Drake. She anxiously paced away as he grew closer. 

"Good… Good morning sir, sorry… you frightened me. I…" she said. The demon narrowed his amber eyes and pulled a cigar out from his uniform pocket. She swallowed and glanced at Flowey who slowly slid under the cover of her coat. She pursed her lips and let out a shaking breath. 

"You alone out here, miss?" He asked. She swallowed heavily and nodded.  _ He's going to attack me. If he attacks me, I'll have to fight. He might figure out I'm a human. Shit. Shit, this was a bad idea. Did Sans put him up to this? No… if Sans wanted to torment me, he'd just do it himself. He has swords… ok he's carrying swords. If he tried to grab me I could reach for one of the swords and—  _

"What's wrong miss? Ya look a little nervous." How many times had Sans said the exact same thing? She was in danger, she had to somehow defuse the situation. Never get cornered alone by a man. She had learned that in more ways than one. 

"I'm just… on my way to Snowden, to run a few errands…" she said. The demon trailed behind her as she began to walk again. Her heart was racing, her stomach filled with heavy dread. 

"Oh. Would you like me to walk you, miss?" He offered, holding out his elbow for her to grab. She bit her lip nervously and looked behind her shoulder.  _ Shit. Play innocent.  _

"Oh, that's not necessary, sir. I know the way!" She chirped falsely. The demon flattened his ears and looked out over the road. It was clear that she wasn't getting out of this. Only people who didn't already have it out to bother others respected people's wishes. This man was clearly on a path to harass her, and her heart was spiking. 

"You sure? It's dangerous out here… for a  _ little  _ thing like you." She backed away timidly before swallowing her resolve.  _ Nothing I say is going to deter this creep…  _

"Um, I'm pretty sure. Is there, uh, is there a problem?" She asked as she started walking. He followed, grabbing the hilts of his swords. 

"No problem. I just don't think a lady such as yourself should be left unattended. Ya neva' know when a monsta' is gonna attack," he said, although something in his voice was hesitant. Like he, himself was uncomfortable. She disregarded that faint contradiction. It did nothing for her. She gulped and looked for any way to escape.  _ I guess I'm stuck with him… until I get into town. If he attacks… I'll use the bridge as cover. I also have Flowey as an ally—  _

"I work with Sans by the way. He's my partner at the border. Or, more or less. He's more my boss." Frisk figured they knew each other. It would explain the behavior too. Birds of a feather flocked together, after all. 

"Oh, is that so?" She sighed as she shifted away from him. He eyed her as if she was out of focus. It was then she realized he was mostly blind. They walked a bit further in silence. Dreadful silence. Silence filled with tension that could've exploded any minute. At any moment she expected him to throw her to the ground. She expected to fight. She would fight. Her heart was racing, her fists clenched. 

"He's a good pal of mine. I know him very well… I mean, well enough to have drinks with him on a Saturday… but if I know my mate, it's that him and his bro'fa would neva' take in an unfortunate soul. So what makes you so different?" His question was filled with unsaid accusations. Frisk was taken aback by his words. What was she even supposed to say? 

Just ahead was the bridge,  _ thank God _ , and soon Snowden. 

"Um, if you're implying what I think you're implying—"

"—Oh no… I don't buy what they're saying on their talk shows. Mettaton is… he has bad taste. I don't think of ladies like that, honest, well… I mean, some ladies, but those aren't ladies…" He took a drag of his cigar and blew out a long puff of smoke. Frisk rolled her eyes. Didn't make the rumors any better though. She still couldn't believe people thought she was porking Papyrus. However, she'd rather have them think that than have them realize she was a human. Being a human down here was a death sentence. All for a soul. She didn't even really understand, God knows she never asked questions. 

"I have a different theory," he mused as they strode over the bridge. The ice below gave a sharp crack and she flinched. Flowey peaked out from her coat and eyed him warily. He was getting ready to defend her… and she wasn't exactly comforted by that idea. 

"What's that?" The Demon blew out another puff of smoke. She felt like Little Red Riding Hood having to face the big bad wolf. 

"You're not a monster… are you?" His voice grew deathly quiet and she froze.  _ Fuck.  _ She thought frantically. She needed to get away from him, or at least convince him otherwise. 

"What are you talking about?" She murmured. The demon chortled and took another drag. Frisk heard the slide of cold metal, and before she knew what was happening, he sprung onto her, sword pressed against her neck, her back shoved harshly against the sharp stone wall of the bridge. She screamed. Of course she did. His sword was sharp and cold against her skin, he was going to kill her! 

A warmth in her chest. His amber eyes trailed down to meet the glowing red light from within her ribs and he grinned wolfishly. 

"I knew it." 

⁂

_ She was waiting tables. A small diner, the managers didn't think twice about her. She was unassuming and she was pretty, so the customers didn't complain. She kept her head low. She tried not to draw attention to herself, she rarely talked to her co-workers. A lot of the people she worked with assumed she was a bitch. Maybe she was. Frisk didn't know anymore. What happened in Lyon still haunted her.  _

_ It had been the first time a soul's determination had been unlocked in a long time. That would remain a secret. Frisk was good at keeping secrets. Ever since then, however, there was something new about her. A hardness, a grit. Something raw. Something that wouldn't let her give up.  _

"Salve, signora. Ti dispiacerebbe riempirmi il bicchiere?" _ He was the most handsome man she had seen since Louis, but even more handsome. He was a man, Louis had been a boy. His chiseled jaw! Those dark mysterious eyes. A small cowlick of jet black hair that fell over his forehead. He was like a statue. When she saw him, she dropped the pitcher.  _

__ "Oh mon Dieu! Je suis tellement désolé, je reviens tout de suite!"  _ She frantically raced back for a towelette. He didn't laugh at her, instead, he went to get a bunch of napkins. They met again, stooped down as Frisk hastily mopped up the spill. It was then he laughed. A small little chuckle.  _

"Si vous êtes français? Vous pouvez apprendre l'italien."  _ She looked up at him and smiled timidly.  _ God he's still talking to me!  _ She stared back down at the ground. As they soaked up all the water, he helped her up to her feet. Some of the men he was eating lunch with whistled. She blushed and drew her hand away. She didn't trust men. He growled and waved at his boys before bringing out his wallet.  _

"Vous savez quoi, Madame, sortez dîner avec moi et je pourrai peut-être vous apprendre un peu de vocabulaire."  _ His smile. A thousand suns. Her knees went weak at that smile, but she reminded herself that men weren't trustworthy. He wrote his number, his name, an address and a time of day and handed her the paper. With a cool, mysterious smile, he sat back down. Frisk looked down at the piece of paper and pocketed it.  _

"Je vais te chercher ce verre!"  _ She chirped. He waved to her.  _ Damian.  _ How was she supposed to know what followed after?  _

⁂

Flowey shouted a battle cry and launched towards the wolf. A white pellet flew into his shoulder and he sprung back with surprise, a sharp whimper resounding in her ears. Frisk gasped and stumbled away. Flowey shot another bullet, this one embedding in his thigh. 

He snarled and sprang forward, despite the dust pouring out of his leg and shoulder. He swung his sword and Frisk rolled out of the way. A half baked plan formed in her panicked mind as she dodged his attempts. She shed her coat as he charged her and in a split reaction, whipped it at him. His sword caught in the garment, ripping through a few threads before getting stuck. 

Suddenly the tables turned as she threw her leg up against the bullet wound Flowey had dealt. He jolted back and staggered to the ground. Frisk threw the coat to her feet and snatched the sword out of its back.

The demon snarled and they paced around each other.  _ He's blind, or at least, mostly blind. Use that!  _ The demon jumped at her, brandishing his other sword. Metal screamed across metal as she haphazardly deflected the blow. He was stronger and sent her tumbling to the ground. Her breath was hot against the mask and she was starting to feel claustrophobic. 

"Go ahead, take it off. I already know what you are," he spat as he advanced on her. She shook her head and looked around frantically for an escape. She didn't want to hurt anyone. She just wanted to get out of this awful situation. 

"You're crazy!" She cried as a last ditch effort as his sword crashed down on top of her. She rolled away at just the right second. Flowey shot another bullet, but he deflected it by a hair's length. It gave her enough time to scramble to her feet and start running. 

With the enemies sword in hand, she booked it into the woods and off the road. She knew she wouldn't be able to outrun him, but she needed to get out of the open. Maybe she could find cover until he wouldn't be able to sniff her out. That was the only chance she'd have! 

His heavy pants for air were right behind her as she zigzagged through the trees. 

"Well this is awfully familiar!" Said Flowey as she skidded around a tree. His sword swung at her as she ducked, and he growled when it cut into the wood. Now that he was stuck, she had enough time to get away. She needed to get back to the farm house! The job at Snowed Inn could wait. 

She skidded to a stop and hid behind a rather large stone outcrop as he ripped his sword out from the tree trunk. He looked around and began to run. She watched breathlessly as he raced about the wood. 

"You humans don't know when to stop do you? I knew right from the get go what you were!" He howled as he looked around frantically for her. She gasped for air, anything to regain her breath. The monster ran right past her, and with his back turned, she stumbled up and took off in the opposite direction. 

It was too late. He caught the movement in his peripheral vision and charged for her. She yelped as the ground fell out from below her and she went tumbling down a ditch. Her hands immediately came to protect her face and she let the sword go to keep herself from getting stabbed. Rocks. Snow. Ice. Sticks. Her body was in agony. Gravity finally won the fight and she slid to the bottom. 

Frisk groaned and stumbled up to her feet. A shot of pain went up her leg and she collapsed back down. Her knee.  _ Fuck!  _ She wailed as pain flooded her. The demon crashed above her and began to half stumble, half sprint to meet her at the bottom.

"Get away from her you beast!" Screamed Flowey as he shot another bullet. This one hit in the stomach and he fell back. Frisk dragged herself to the sword that was lying in the snow. 

Her fingers desperately snatched at the handle as she heard the low groan of the demon behind her. She could hear him pick himself up one more time. Flowey's bullets were nothing! Just little stings! 

She gasped as she dragged the sword to her and frantically crawled away. Her body fucking  _ hurt.  _ Her knee! Jesus, she was sure she tore something! Blood soaked her jeans, leaving trails in the snow. 

The ragged breaths of the demon filled the silence as he stomped toward her. Flowey gasped and doubled over. He was tired. He wasn't a strong monster. His magic was exhausting him. She was alone. She gripped her stolen weapon as she heard the swoosh of his come down on her. Her soul lit like a bonfire.

She screamed and whipped around, her soul burning with fiery determination. He gasped as she plunged the weapon through his abdomen. Her eyes widened with shock and she let out an unholy wail as he staggered back. 

She gasped for air as she watched him fall to the ground. His chest heaved as dust flaked and poured off of him. His soul was glowing dimly in his chest. He was dying.  _ Fuck _ . She had killed him. Or at least, she was about to kill him. He was still.  _ Fuck! _ This had not been what she wanted to happen!  _ How did this happen?! I have to… I have to… I can't let this happen again!  _

"You were the last one we needed… just one more fuckin soul. We coulda been outta this hell… we just needed one more. To think, the Gasta's were hoardin' you… what good… fuck," he groaned. She panted heavily, her eyes wide. She was in complete shock. Memories raced through her mind. Her soul was still glowing in her chest. Two warring thoughts screamed at her. 

_ LET HIM DIE AND LEAVE. LESS PROBLEMS FOR US.  _

_ HELP HIM! DON'T JUST FUCKING SIT THERE! YOU CAN'T LET HIM DIE. YOU CAN'T LET ANOTHER PERSON DIE BECAUSE OF YOU.  _

Her eyes welled up and she let out a sob. She couldn't let this happen again. She had stood idly by, she had taken souls. No more. She wasn't Damian's puppet anymore. She wasn't his fuel or his determination. She wouldn't let this happen to her. More importantly, she realized she was the example of humanity for these demons. They were surrounded by violence just as she had been. It was a sick cycle of selfishness. She wasn't going to participate in it any longer. She chose  _ mercy _ . 

"Flowey, heal him," she choked as she crawled over to him. Flowey looked at her with shock. 

"What? No! He tried to kill you!" He cried. She grabbed the Demon as his own body strangled his breath. His soul was dimming. He was going to die, or at least, he would be about to die if she didn't have a say. But she did. 

" _ Ne me battez pas Flowey!  _ Heal him! If I let him die I'm just another monster. I'm just another Damian, I'm just another Sans," she growled as she propped herself up on his chest.

"What if he kills you?" Frisk shook her head as the demon's amber eyes grew frantic as he realized he was drawing his last breaths.

"He won't." Flowey's eyes widened as they came to an understanding. His brow furrowed with concentration. 

"What the fuck are ya doin'?" Whimpered the demon. Flowey reached for him, green light emanating from his vines. The light seared through the demon's skin and cut straight to his soul. The demon gasped for air as the healing fire spread through him. 

"It's ok, breath… it's ok, you're… you're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die," she whispered. His amber eyes widened as they locked with hers through the mask. Frisk clenched her jaw and tore it off. The emotionless facade was not going to help her in this. He needed to see what she was. Now face to face, he truly saw her. She would make sure that he knew what a human was made of. _Mercy. Integrity._ _Compassion. Determination._

His breath shot through his lungs and he gasped as the light subsided. Frisk dragged herself away and hunched over against a tree. He groaned. 

"Why? Why would you do that? Why would you spare my life?" He asked. Frisk bit her lip as he pushed himself up. She shook her head. It was stupid, she knew it was stupid. She just… she couldn't perpetuate the cycle. Maybe she had done it out of spite. A  _ fuck you _ to the people who looked down on kindness like it was some kind of weakness. 

"Because fuck you that's why. I'm not one of you," she spat. Pain. Her whole body screamed with pain. Her knee. Her knee was flooding with blood. She couldn't walk. He could kill her now. Flowey was spent, he couldn't protect her. 

The demon chuckled wryly and leaned against a tree. He groaned and touched his chest. 

"I could kill you." 

"Yeah, you could." 

He eyed her, his eyes trailing down to her knee. It was then she noticed his eyes were beginning to well. His chest heaved and he whimpered. Her eyes widened at the sight of the hellish beast breaking down crying. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's what we're supposed to do. The bro'fa's betrayed us, I didn't know what else to do. I saw you walkin' alone. It just, I  _ knew  _ Sans was lyin' to me. I'm so sorry," he sobbed. Flowey shot her a puzzled look. One moment, he was on the warpath, the next he was sobbing his eyes out? 

"It's not easy bein' a blind dog in Hell. No one respects you. You could be the smartest in the room. I guess some part of me wanted to prove to everyone I wasn't a bitch. That I could do things to, ya know? The only person who eva' stood up for me was Sans… but… if I was lyin' face down in the snow, no one would care… no one's eva' cared. Not really. Ole' blind Doug, bested by a fuckin human." She nodded along as he rambled through his sobs. 

"I care…" she said hoarsely. She was filled with empathy and she scooted over to him. Doug's lungs racked as he hiccuped for air. 

"I'm sorry. I know I scared you. That's not me. That's not me. I'm sorry." He choked. Frisk felt tears of her own rolling down her bronze cheeks and she hesitantly rubbed his shoulder. His sobs grew softer. 

"It's ok…" she murmured as she ran her fingers through his thick fur. 

"It's not… erm, what are you doin?" He asked. Frisk paused and looked at his shoulder, where her hand rested. 

"I mean, don't stop, it felt good," he whimpered as another wave of heavy sobs racked his lungs. She smiled softly and continued to scratch his arm and upper back to calm him down. They sat in silence, her knee was still screaming. 

"I think I know why the bro'fa's didn't kill you," he murmured. She let out a breath and looked up at him. It was getting darker. It never really got light. She hummed and he took it as a sign to continue. 

"They're so fuckin messed up… and you… you must be a beacon. There's some'fin good about you, and they don't want to let ya go. The Underground is a fucked up place. It makes fucked up people. It's kill or be killed. No one knew that betta' than them. Here you are… sparin' people who try to kill you. You're… an angel, and they know it, damn it." She frowned and looked away. She was exhausted. She needed to get back home. What time was it? How long had they been here? She was still bleeding. She needed to fix her wound. 

"I'm not an angel," she whispered. He eyed her. 

"You're right… you're not just any angel. You're  _ the  _ angel. I'll be damned if I let the sick bastard on that throne have your soul… barrier or no barrier," he said as he rose back to his feet. Frisk's breath hitched at his subtle pledge of loyalty. 

He held out his hand and she hesitantly took it. He squat down to pluck her off the ground. She gasped as she easily fit into his arms. She was promptly reminded of the night Sans had taken her into his arms and carried her to her room. 

"You can't walk, can you? I'll take you back… that is… if you want to go back to the bro'fa's," he murmured. She frowned as he went to pick up her mask and his sword. Did she? She was sure if she went with Doug he would pay with his life and she had gone through so many measures to keep him alive. At least now she had another ally. 

"It's fine, they treat me well," she said. Doug frowned as he carried her back to the road. Frisk put the mask back on. 

"My… name is Frisk, by the way. Not Moxie. Frisk De La Noir. It's French," she said as he began to jog down the road. He smiled. 

"I think it fits you," he said. She smiled back. She couldn't believe what she had done. She had shown someone mercy, shown someone compassion, and they had received it. She had converted someone away from Kill or be Killed. Her soul glistened with determination at the thought. 

_ "When I saw you, I felt hope, and now that you're here, not dead by Toriel's hands… I know that you're exactly what the Underground has been needing all these years." _

Maybe Flowey had been right.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So Sans is trying to apologise in a weird way, and Frisk is standing up for herself. Also, reminder, she CAN fight. Now, Doug is an unlikely ally, but an ally nonetheless. 
> 
> Up next: Sans and Frisk have an interesting conversation during the witch's hour. 
> 
> If you enjoy this story, don't be afraid to give feedback! I'd love to hear about your favorite part or your theories. Love you guys!


	15. Nightmare

_ Chapter Fifteen: Nightmare _

* * *

_ Frisk walked through the house. There was something wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It was as if every time she turned her head a certain way the beautiful and lavish decorations and red paint were replaced with black matter oozing out of the ceiling.  _

_ Frisk thought nothing of it as she moved through the space, cleaning. She watched as Sans walked upstairs. But… was he walking or was he… just moving? There was something that called for her to follow him, but just as she took a step toward the stairs, her body grew slow and heavy.  _

"Frisk, can you come in here?"  _ Papyrus called from his office. Frisk hesitated. Sans was staring down at her. She shrugged at him, he shrugged back and she turned away to the office.  _

_ As she opened the office, it became glaringly obvious that it wasn't Papyrus's office. Papyrus was in the office, but there were photos of her, some of her in a wedding dress, but the man standing beside her was scratched out. Redacted. There was a familiar golden globe sitting in the corner. She knew it was filled with alcohol, but Papyrus didn't drink. This wasn't Papyrus's office. _

"You needed to see me?"  _ She asked. He nodded and sat down. She couldn't open her eyes then.  _

"You spared his life. Why did you spare his life? What have I taught you about compassion in a business like ours? I should've never involved you in this,"  _ it was Papyrus's voice, but… she had heard the words before. _

"I… who, Doug?"  _ She asked, her eyes wouldn't open, but she could still see her surroundings.  _

"You know who… are you going to spare me?"  _ The voice warped. She furrowed her brow.  _

"Spare you? Why would I… have to hurt you?"  _ She whispered. Her eyes flickered open. Damian was sitting in the armchair. Papyrus's bones were strewn across the floor. She paid no mind to it, as if it didn't matter at all. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. Damian stood up and cupped her face.  _

"If you run, I'll chase you,"  _ he murmured. He was about to kiss her. _

_ She was in the woods. She could hear the howls of the hellhounds. They were after her. She took off running into the night. Zigzagging through the woods. Her breaths for air were strangled. It was as if she was being suffocated. She  _ screamed.  _ Someone shoved her from behind.  _ She fell. She screamed. 

  
  


⁂

Frisk jolted awake as she hit the floor. Her knee was shot with pain and she gasped for air.  _ What the fuck was that?  _ As soon as she was awake, she forgot the events of the dream, but she was left with the lingering unease it imprinted on her. 

Frisk rolled onto her back and sat up to cup her injured knee in her hands. Arial hopped down from her bed and sat at her feet, staring up at her with those cool, silver eyes. Frisk whimpered and leaned against the drawer. She looked out the window. Something was happening. 

"I think… he's coming," she whispered into the night. Arial blinked slowly at her. She sighed and leaned forward. She felt so uneasy. So unsettled. There was something so wrong. The darkness was closing in on her. She looked at the curtain draped window and bit her lip. She couldn't stay in here, it was suffocating. 

She dragged herself up and limped to the window. It opened with a jolt and she crawled out, careful not to use her bad knee. The first thing that hit her was the cold. She shivered as she settled on the roof, the snow seeping into her night clothes. She needed the cold though. Arial jumped up and sat on her lap. 

The crisp air filled her lungs and stung her tear filled eyes. She wiped it away and looked out into the night. There were _ stars _ . Glowing bright and blue up in the foggy night. There was no moon tonight, just complete blackness and stars. She sat back, leaning against the wall of the house as she stared upward. Sans had been right, this was a good way to escape the suffocating darkness and sleepless bed inside.

"I'm scared," she whispered. Arial blinked up at her, purring with content. Her shadow was warm against Frisk's body. The woods seemed to grow darker and she let out a shaking breath. What if Damian came back? What if he came down and finished the job he had started? She had betrayed him, she had defied him.  _ If you run, I'll chase you.  _ The words echoed in her mind and she blinked. She could remember one thing from that dream…Damian. She knew he had been in it. She shivered and wiped her eyes. She didn't know if she could go back to sleep. She was too scared to go back to sleep. 

Frisk shivered and crawled back inside when she realized her fingers and toes were going numb. She stumbled back into her room and whimpered. There was no way she'd be able to sleep now.  _ I'm making some coffee and… maybe I'll listen to that Beatles album.  _ She thought as she snagged the vinyl record off of her desk. 

She limped down the hall and edged her way down the stairs. She was too young to be so crippled. Honestly, she was gaining a little weight and her body was always getting hurt.  _ I need to stop eating all that Italian food. Maybe start exercising again.  _ She thought matter of factly. She came to the living room and set the vinyl in the record player. She turned it on and set the headshell in place. The record scratched as the music began to play. 

She teared up as she sat on the couch as the first song started. When she had moved to the States in 2011, she had embraced her new identity ten-fold. She had loved being American. She loved Baseball games and burgers, and the music! The music had been  _ alive.  _ Rock, hip hop, pop, alternative, she had loved all of it. From the oldies to the new stuff. Damian thought she was insane for actually liking the States. It probably had something to do with how much she had hated her life in Europe. America seemed like a new, shiny idea. 

She sung softly along to Eleanor Rigby as she laid on the couch, recollecting her memories. 

A year of happiness with Damian. She confided in him everything that had happened to her. It hadn't drove him away, it just made him love her more. He told her she was strong and that her soul was filled with determination. A soul rarely had that magic nowadays. She didn't know or understand what he meant. Magic had died out over the ages. Damian had told her about dark magic. An external magic that humans could use, all it took was a death. Wars had been infused with dark magic and then outlawed in the Geneva convention. 

She remembered the first time Damian had showed her dark magic. That was when he brought his family business to Ebbot. Damian had rose over every other crime syndicate. Her determination had been a vessel for dark magic, it magnified it. He had needed her in the early stages. She was powerful because of her trauma. 

_ "You spared his life. Why did you spare his life? What have I taught you about compassion in a business like ours? I should've never involved you in this."  _

⁂

_ Frisk stood at the Ebbot City Muder Docks with Damian and his men. The stars were bright that night. The yawning mouth of the cave loomed below them, ready to swallow the unfortunate souls and drag them to hell. She had never felt more terrified. Some didn't think she should've been there, but the boss was the boss. Frisk was petrified. A Jeep screeched to a halt behind them and they met their associates. They had captured the rival gang's heir after a negotiation had gone sour.  _

_ "This will show those pigs whose in charge," snarled Damian as they dragged the gangly man out from the back. He grabbed Frisk's hand, their rings twinkling in the dim moonlight. She was scared. She didn't even fully comprehend what was happening. She had thought she had escaped the violence when she immigrated here. She had thought wrong.  _

_ She began to panic when Damian put the gun in her hand as his boys dragged the enemy to the edge of the dock.  _

_ "Show them what you're made of,  _ mia amore,"  _ he whispered. She swallowed and stared up at him with dismay at what he was asking her to do. His eyes glistened in the starlight and something in them threatened her. She clenched her fingers around the gun and stepped forward. She held the gun up to his head and bit her lip.  _ I can't do this. What am I doing? Why did he bring me here!?  _ She thought frantically. She looked back at Damian, who nodded encouragingly at her.  _

_ "Damian, I can't do this, this is wrong," she whispered. A ripple of laughter went through the men and Damian glared at her. She was getting in the way of his plans. Her eyes widened when he pulled his gun out and pointed it at her head.  _

_ "Do it." She whimpered and swallowed the lump in her throat. Her eyes were wide with realization that Damian had completely devoted himself to this work. She closed her eyes tightly and she squeezed the trigger.  _

_ The gun shot was much louder than she thought it would be. She screamed and dropped the gun. Some of the men began to laugh as the enemy slumped forward, blood trickling down his head. He was dead! She had killed him! Her soul was burning red and she gasped.  _

_ They watched as his soul seeped from his body. It was a burnt yellow smoke. Damian came behind her; her body shuddered at his rough touch. Not wanting to make him any more angry with her, she obediently stretched her hand out, her soul burning. She took a deep breath, breathing in the smoke. Her soul glowed brighter and she whimpered. Damian held her and whispered an incantation into her ear. She let out a cry and began to recite the spell he had taught her. Her soul was burning so bright that she was sure she would be incinerated! When the pain became unbearable, she raised her hands and a slice of yellow cut through the night. A tree was felled that instant, cut through and smoldering. The power he had granted her.  _

_ No one fucked with Damian after that. He had determination on his side… and Frisk hadn't saved anyone.  _

⁂

Frisk dragged herself out of the memory as the stairs creaked. What time was it? It was still very late, or rather early. She sat up when she saw Sans round the corner. He looked at the record player and then at her. The both of them sat in absolute silence as Sans meandered about the kitchen and she laid on the couch listening to her music. It was a nice, quiet kind of comradery. It reminded her of those times she and her father would be up early together. 

"I had a nightmare," she said absentmindedly as Sans hovered over the couch. He cocked a brow bone. 

"Oh? So was that what that noise was?" He asked. She moved her legs for him as he sat down. How strange the casualness was to her, but all things were strange at three a.m. 

"I guess… did I wake you up? I'm sorry," she murmured. Sans scoffed and sat back as he ate his cereal. 

"No, I was already awake. You have nothing to do with my self-induced insomnia," he said with a half-hearted chuckle. She eyed him as the music whispered below them. He nodded to the record player. 

"Is that the drunk album?" He asked. She nodded and he grunted. She watched with bated breath as he set his bowl down. Finally when enough silence had stretched, she cleared her throat. 

"I climbed onto the roof. Like you… suggested. I don't know… I just didn't want to feel suffocated. It was like the walls were closing in on me… do you ever feel… like you're being hunted? Like no matter what you do...or how far you run, someone will always find you?" she whispered. She didn't know why she was telling him this. Sans eyed her, the blanket of silence growing thicker between them as he watched her. Slowly he sleepily nodded and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. 

"Hm… I uh, I guess I know the feeling… if you don't mind me askin, what were you dreamin' about?" He asked. Frisk shifted uncomfortably and looked out of the window. 

"I can't remember. I just know it was wrong. It made me feel wrong. Like… something was going to happen, something bad," she whispered. Sans tilted his head, his eyes flooding with an understanding. They sat in another moment of silence as they both wrestled with what they wanted or needed to say. Struggled with the odd comfort and companionship they found in each other. Sans was drawn to her in ways he was alarmed at himself for feeling. 

Frisk was tense with anticipation, but he only sat with his eyes half closed like some kind of content cat. If he was a cat, she was a mouse. She was always a tad nervous he would lose his temper and take it out on her. Before then, he was just toying with her. 

She shook away the thought and hummed along to the music. 

"This is a good record. Props to drunk Sans, he knew what he was doin'," murmured Sans with a smirk. She rolled her eyes. 

"I suppose… yeah, I like it," she said. Sans's smirk grew a bit wider. She had learned that smug grin and she braced herself for a shitty joke. 

"My favorite song is Eleanor  _ Rib _ -by." She groaned and he chortled with smug triumph. 

"Oh come on, that was a good one!" She shook her head and sighed with exasperation. 

"You're such an asshole," she whispered. His eyes widened and he laughed a bit harder. 

"Oh please, how am I—you know what? Don't answer that," he said. She cracked a smile and immediately hid it with her hand. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of making her laugh, but the piece of shit was funny! He grinned at her and sat back, letting them lapse into another quiet moment. This time she was the one who broke it. 

"I read this short story in that book of fairy tales. It was about Death and his love of a living human… do you know it?  _ ' _ _ Humanity. So determined you were to live, you were blind to the suffering that would come. Now you only wish to join me because I have everything and you have nothing. But unlike you, I keep my promises, however painful it is to me. You will live forever,'  _ and that was how it ended, did you ever, have you ever read that? Or—"

"—Oh that story?  _ Death's Mistress.  _ Yeah I've read it. A shitty ending but, she deserved it," he said. Frisk furrowed her brow. 

"Why? All she wanted was to take care of her family," she said matter of factly, "I wouldn't want to die if I had all that going for me, and it's not like she was old," she added. 

"She made a promise. I'm not one to make promises, but I honor the ones I do make. The moral of the story is that she broke her bargain and had to deal with the consequences," he said. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the soft smile that flickered on her face. He was surprisingly smart, even if he was an asshole about everything. 

"It seems pretty targeted at humanity," she noted. He nodded and glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. 

"Well, it's also a commentary about humanity's endless search for immortality. Some monsters were immortal and humans felt threatened, not only that but they're… you're all so scared of dying. You know one idiot tried to concoct an immortality potion, and the dumbass invented  _ gunpowder!"  _ He said with a wry chuckle. Frisk giggled softly as well and sat back. The two shared a lingering gaze as their laughter died away into the night air. There was something soft in his eyes, something welcoming. He tilted his head curiously as a giddy smile graced her lips. 

"What about Determination?" She asked. Sans grunted and put a hand on his chest. 

"That's the one power humans have, right? But it doesn't let them live forever," he said. Frisk scooted forward, Sans eyed her, his smile growing at her enduring excitement. Finally, she knew more about something than Sans or even Flowey. 

"Determination magnifies a human's will to live. If they're adept in it they can become faster, stronger… and if they use magic, it makes that magic more powerful ten fold. It's like steroids," she explained with a growing smile. Sans furrowed his brow and smirked playfully at her. 

"It's also what keeps us trapped down here. We just need one more soul to break the barrier," he said. She paled as he eyed her. 

"That's me right? I'm the last soul you all need to get out of here," she murmured. Sans shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Don't think you're so special. Besides, I gave up on that a long time ago. The king is a lunatic, but don't tell anyone I told you that or," he mimicked getting his head cut off. She rolled her eyes playfully. That's when she remembered something that had been haunting her in small little ways. 

"What… what is the Purge?" She asked. Sans's eyes went black as she mentioned the event solely talked about in whispers. She frowned as she saw the look on Sans's face. His sharp fangs were bared, eyes hollow. Her fears of him came rushing back and she frantically envisioned him dragging her back down to the basement to torture her. 

Sans blinked and looked away, rubbing his eye sockets and she let out a small whimper. He glanced at her again and sighed. 

"The Purge… well I guess you deserve an explanation, considering it's happening in two months… like I said, the king is a, well he's more than a lunatic. He's a sick, twisted tyrant. He empties out all the hospitals, nursing homes and prisons and just, executes everyone he considers takes up space. Bastard says it's to control the population and frees up resources. It's fucked up," he growled. Frisk let out a shaking breath as he stood up. She didn't know what to say to that. It was awful, but that would be a bit redundant. Everyone knew it was awful, they had to. 

"Aren't you… a part of his military? You perpetuate it—"

"—Well what would you have me do? Ms.  _ All of you are awful."  _ Frisk clenched her jaw as he spit back the words she had said to him. 

"I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry," she whispered.  _ You just poked the bear too many times _ . He scoffed and shook his head with disbelief. 

"Spare me the bullshit. Fuck, what time is it? Five? Five in the fuckin mornin'? Jesus." She sighed as he stormed off. Something bad must've happened, something really bad to make him act like that, to make him so angry when she mentioned it. She made a note to never talk about it again. She also made a note that he hadn't taken out his anger on her, physically.  _ Yet.  _ She gulped and went to turn the record off. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just when we think these two can get along, someone fucks it up. Smh. 
> 
> Up next: Frisk finally gets around to writing that letter and Sans has a run in with an old pal. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to comment and leave a kudos to show your appreciation. Your feedback is what keeps stories like these going! Xoxo


	16. Letters and Icecream

Chapter Sixteen: Letters and Icecream 

* * *

That morning, after Sans left, Papyrus joined her shortly. He made it known that he wanted her to rest her leg and forbid her from doing any chores. It was still a mystery to him how she had injured herself, she still hadn’t told him about her run in with Doug. 

Soon enough, she was alone. She really wanted to apply for the position at Snowed Inn however, and her stupid knee was putting a wrench in her plans. She knew Flowey could heal her, but she didn’t want him to expend all of his energy. He was pretty bent out of shape after yesterday, and he was still regaining his health. He told her as soon as he was able, he would help her. He apologized profusely for not being strong enough, but she had immediately forgiven him. It wasn’t his fault, and to her, he was the strongest of all of them. 

She put the record on the B-side when she knew she would have the house to herself and blared it as loud as possible. Her knee would heel, she had ruptured a tendon, she hadn’t broken a bone. Of course, some may argue a ligament was worse than a bone, but she knew it would be fine. Now that she had free time, she decided she needed to get back in shape. She had a dancer’s body but in all truth, it had been a long time since she had danced. She had gotten into yoga when she was married. It was the cool thing to do in America for people who wanted to be active. Once she was healed, she would get back into dance and working out. She’d cook better food too. The brothers could eat all the italian food they wanted, _they_ were skeletons! She was a human and all those carbohydrates would weigh on her. She needed to be in shape in a place like this, especially if people were going to try and fight her in the woods. 

She limped up to her room and sighed as she collapsed on her bed. Flowey perked up when he saw her. 

"Howdy," he greeted. She smiled at him sleepily and twisted to face him. Arial jumped on the bed as well and curled up next to her. 

_"bonjour,"_ she murmured. She glanced at her desk and she hummed in thought. What was she going to do with all this free time? There was no way she was just going to sit around doing nothing. _The letter to Toriel. You could finally write it._ That was definitely true! 

She sprung up, scaring Arial out of her room as she hopped to the desk. Flowey's eyes widened as she brought out a notebook and pen. 

"Hmm, let's see, I suppose I should start off with a greeting…" she murmured. Flowey cocked his head curiously and crawled over to her in his strange way. She smiled at him and began to tap the paper in thought. 

  
  


_To whom it is concerned…_

"No, that's too formal." 

_Dear Toriel,_

"There's gotta be another way to open a letter." Flowey glanced at her. 

"Just write like she's a friend… what happened between you two anyway?" He asked. She hummed in thought as the ideas raced through her mind. It'd been awhile since she had written a letter. She glanced at Flowey and pursed her lips. 

"She understood me in a way. She lost her children… and so have I. We're both women who have been through hell and back," she said. Flowey stiffened at the words and he nodded slowly. 

"Yeah. She has," he murmured. Frisk furrowed her brow as she doubled over the desk. 

_It's been awhile,_

_Hello again! I told you I would write to you, didn't I? I hope you have been well. I know it must be hard to be alone in the Ruins._

_I don't know what I was expecting when I was thrown into Hell, but a beautiful wintery forest was not one of them. There are some amazing places so full of life. You may not know what I am talking about, but the town Snowden is so quaint. It reminds me of the little villages in Germany. The politics however are not so pretty._

_The people I'm hiding with at the moment disguise me as a tiefling. My name is Moxie now. I have so many questions I can't just ask about the history of the Underground. People would probably see through the facade if I was ignorant in all the holidays and customs. I'll probably have to make a_ lot _of trips to the library. I have made some friends, surprisingly. It sounds very childish, but truly, it is good to have allies. There's of course the monsters that are hiding me, but I consider them more acquaintances. They're both rather cruel and unusual in their own ways, but sometimes they can be weirdly nice. Some people are filled with contradictions. There were two women who were very sweet, and I feel like they have a lot in common with me. There is a monster named Doug who found out about my humanity, he almost killed me, but then I saved his life and he basically pledged his loyalty to me. It was really weird._

_I have a theory. Most people down here are actually kind and fair, and it's the people in authority who hurt others and enforce cruel laws. I'm sure given the opportunity, and shown kindness and mercy, this place wouldn't be so hellish. I'm not the only one who thinks so. There was a comedian who shared these sentiments and they killed him. I know it's very complicated. Enough about that though. Politics? Never a good topic._

_I have got to stop eating Italian food._

"Ok it's… a fucking letter not a _diary,_ what is wrong with me?" She promptly scratched through the last line. 

~~_I have got to stop eating Italian food._ ~~ __

"Ugh that looks so sloppy. I'm starting over—"

"—No! No, knowing Toriel, she likes the little… nitty gritties. She likes the mistakes, and the rambling thoughts," he said. Frisk glanced at him with confusion. It was as if he knew her personally. 

"Um… Alright," she said as she tapped the pen on her lip in thought. She glanced at Flowey under the corner of her eye. He was hiding something about his past. There was a connection between him and Toriel that she had never thought to look at until now. He did tell her he hadn't always been a flower. _Don't Snoop around other people's pasts. If they wanted to tell you, they would._

People like her, like Flowey and like Sans, who held everything inside. Frisk who hid her past and let it fester, Sans who got enraged at simply being called his father's name and Flowey who wasn't always a flower. Everyone was a mystery. Perhaps that's why they were all so drawn to each other. Or at least why those two were strangely drawn to _her_. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Sans sat hunched over in his office. His hood was pulled up to hide his face as he slept the day away. He was exhausted, he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. Lately he avoided sleeping. Shit always went down when he did sleep and he couldn't deal with the terrors that haunted the shadows. As tough as he tried to make himself out to be, when faced with his true demons, he was still a little kid. A little kid who lost his parents and had to take up the mantle. Life in the Underground was hell. 

He snorted softly as the door opened. He involuntarily tensed up, expecting Papyrus, but instead was greeted by the flick of a lighter and the smell of cigar smoke. Doug had joined him. How nice. 

Doug watched him from the corners of his eyes as the two sat in somber silence. Sans listened subconsciously as the cigar burned and the ashes fell. He was still a bit miffed after his run in with Frisk that morning. More so at himself than at her. It was natural for people to ask questions, and it was necessary for her to know things about the Underground. The Purge was just… and it was worse when she pointed out how he was a part of the system. It was either that or join the rest of his race at the bottom of mass graves. However the accusation from _her…_ it bit him somewhere deep in his soul. Why did she have such an effect on him? 

Doug cleared his throat, dragging him out from the depths of his thoughts. He groggily looked up from his arms, a scowl on his brow. 

"How's Frisk doin'?" Asked Doug. Sans shrugged and laid his head back down. 

"She's fine—" he cut himself off when he realized that Doug had used her actual name. His head jerked up, the hood falling off as a result. 

"What did you call her?" He asked. Doug blew another puff of smoke. 

"I knew you was lyin'... But don't worry, I can keep your lit'le secret," he said. Sans bared his teeth. What was this bastard talking about? 

"What secret?" He growled, trying desperately to deny her human identity. This bitch never let anything go, did he? 

"Oh piss off it! I know Frisk is… one of _'em._ It's fine though. I understand why you haven't killed her," he said. Sans narrowed his eyes. This was dangerous. 

"And why's that?" He asked. Doug had a dreamy look on his face as he took another drag of his cigar. Sans had half the mind to punch him. 

"She's the sweetest lit'le thing. A real angel. Saved my life she did, out from the kindness of her heart. I wouldn't doubt it if she lifted your spirits a lit'le. I know how broken your home is, and she must… she's a real doll," he rambled. Sans sat back and glared at Doug. _Sweet? Angel? This girl really_ does _wrap people around her little finger! Come on_ Doug _?_

"What the fuck are you talkin’ about?" He barked. Hearing one of his closest pals talk such sappy shit about the little vixen in his house was both alarming and intriguing. How had she stopped him from killing her? All monsters were ordered to kill humans on sight or be considered traitors to the crown. 

Doug glared back at him and a small growl emanated from his throat. He leaned forward and blew out a puff of smoke. 

"I would give my life to her, y'hear that? I know what you're like Sans, you and your bro'fa. Look me in the eyes, and tell me you haven't hurt her," he growled. Sans's eyes widened. _Jesus, what did she do to get his loyalty? What, save his life? What does that even mean? Is that how she got injured?_

"I… haven't, no. Papyrus won't let me, heh," he said with a wry laugh. Doug growled and sat back. 

"When you told me Papyrus would do the right thing, I didn't believe you for a second, but now I see you was tellin' the truth. You better not have laid a finga' on her," he said. Sans was forced to remember the night he had taken his anger out on her. Just how awful he had felt afterwards. He didn't need Doug doubling down on his guilt. 

"Have _you_ hurt her?" He asked, to flip the question off of him. Doug lowered his ears and looked away. 

"I knew she was a human… after she spared my life, she could've killed me. She was certainly strong enough to," he murmured. Sans narrowed his eyes. This was news to him. 

"What? What are you talking about?" He asked. He was too tired for this shit. Frisk? Fighting? _I mean sure, how else did she get past the Ruins… but she's so small._

"She has a fight to her. Her soul was glowin' red. Stabbed me with my own sword as I was about to land the killin' blow. Then she started cryin' and she told her lit'le daisy friend to heal me. She said she wasn't going to be like us. When I asked her why she said, ' _because fuck you that's why,'_ I had never been given so much grace…" he trailed off. Sans snickered at the snarky comment Frisk had said. That sounded like something she would say whilst in a fighting mood. He knew he should've been mad that Doug now knew their secret, should've been mad that he attacked her, should've been mad that she was out and about by herself, but all he could be was _intrigued._ Everyday she grew more and more _interesting_. 

"Well ain't that somethin'... You know normally I'd have to kill ya… but, it almost sounds like you're in love with her, so I doubt you're gonna go squealin' to the authorities," he chuckled. Doug snickered as well. He punched Sans's shoulder lightly and Sans punched his shoulder a little harder. The two giggled boyishly as they hit each other and dodged the other's attacks. 

"You treat her right, or else," growled Doug playfully as he snapped his jaws. Sans practically cackled. 

"Oh please, none of you bitches stand a chance against me. I could dust all of you with my _eyes closed."_ Doug nodded solemnly at that very real fact, but the fun hadn't evaporated. 

"After our shift in this hell hole, we ought to go to Grillby's eh?" Suggested Doug. Sans sighed and looked out the window. 

"Papyrus—"

"Papyrus Shmyrus. Last I checked you were five years older than him," he said. Sans groaned at the fact. 

"He acts like it's the other way around. He has this big superiority complex, fuckin narcissist," he grumbled. Doug chuckled at the sibling rivalry and he sat down. 

"Always second. Mettaton knows it." Sans groaned at the mention of the celebrity. 

"It's ridiculous." The two fell silent as Doug finished his cigar and put it out on the floor. The radio crackled and Sans snatched it before Doug could. 

_-Code Ice. Border crossing.-_

"Shit," growled Sans. Doug jumped up and sheathed his swords as Sans zipped up his jacket. He was too tired for this shit. He had been hoping he could have a peaceful day, no disturbances. 

"You know what, fuck it, we should just let them slip, just one time," grumbled Sans as they vacated the checkpoint. Doug chuckled wryly, but they both knew that was impossible. Sans flicked the alarm and the custom blaring siren, flashing lights, buzzing fence and lowered gate screamed out into the woods as they trudged forth. 

"You know there should really be a maintenance check on that damn fence," said Sans as red mist surrounded them. Doug lowered his ears at the sight of his magic. 

"Aw c'mon, _again?"_ He whined as Sans disappeared, leaving him alone once more. 

⁂

It wasn't a chase. Sans crunched through the wildwood past the fence to see a flicker of faded baby blue. As he looked closer, he saw a lapine monster hunched over in the snow with an insulated box. _Is that… Nick?_ He thought. His soul jumped with panic at the sight of his old friend. What the hell was he doing out here? If they caught him, he'd be put away for sure! 

"What's up," grunted Sans cooly, despite his internal panic, as he lifted his hand. Two, blue ears shot up and the rabbit shortly followed. Not to run away though, everyone knew that was pointless. Besides, Nick was never one to shy away from anyone. Especially not his old roommate and colleague. 

"Sans! Long time no see!" He said. Sans narrowed his eyes and glanced down at the box. It was packed full of snow. He sighed in exasperation. 

"Nick, what are you doin?" He asked. Nick laughed nervously and grabbed his box off the ground. The dogs were howling in the distance as they tracked down the culprit. 

"I'm just… collecting snow. You know, for the ice cream… for the ice cream parlor," he explained with a sheepish smile. Sans wasn't exactly convinced. 

"Nothing wrong with that right?" Added Nick when Sans took too long to respond. Sans grunted and gestured around them. 

"And… you couldn't get snow anywhere else?" He asked. Nick lowered his ears and glanced around. Slowly he shook his head. 

"You know consumers...always wanting the next best thing. I'll call it Border Snow. No one's been past the border. I'll get so many new customers," said Nick with a prospecting glimmer in his eye. Sans sighed and paced toward him. _Why Nick? Why did it have to be Nick?_ He didn't dislike Nick. Nick Creamer was a happy-go-lucky type guy. He had the charisma to change anyone's mind, and he could make friends effortlessly. Before Sans had gotten into the Royal Guard, they had even been pals. Sans used that term sparingly, but Nick was a genuine person, and he had helped Sans in a time of need. So what the hell was he doing past the border fucking it all up for himself? 

"You know if you market it that way, you'll get penalized for sure. I'm gonna have to take you in," he said soberly. Nick's eyes bulged like golf balls at the statement. 

"No! That's not necessary! I wasn't doing anything wrong! Just gathering snow! Come on, a man's gotta make some money somehow in this economy!" He pleaded. Sans glanced over his shoulder as Lez's barks grew louder. Nick let out a panicked breath at the realization he was being hunted by the hellhounds. 

"Sans! Please, do me a favor! For old times sake!" He whispered. Sans glanced back at him. _Frisk would save him._ What did it matter what Frisk would do? Why had he even thought about her? He glanced back behind him as Lez' howled a bone chilling howl. He looked back at Nick. _I got a job to do, and I'd rather like to keep my soul in my body._ He thought bitterly. 

_She saved my life._ _When I asked her why she said, 'because fuck you that's why,'_

_Aren't you… a part of his military? You perpetuate it…_

Sans shook his head of the voices and glared at Nick. Fuck it. What was one soul spared the torture of hell? He clasped Nick's hand as red mist surrounded them. He pulled him in and the two were gone. 

They arrived at his border checkpoint and Sans grabbed the walkie talkies. 

"False alarm. Some bozo tripped the wires going on a hike. No one crossed the fence," he said. 

_-Did you apprehend him?-_ Dorothy barked back. Sans glanced at Nick. He was still recovering from the shock of being teleported and… being shown mercy by the one and only Sans the Skeleton. 

"I took him back for questioning, nothin' was wrong, so I let him go," he growled. Dorothy was silent, and Sans and Nick glanced nervously across at each other. Finally the radio crackled back to life. 

_-Copy.-_ Nick sighed in relief and slumped over in the chair. Sans joined him and rubbed his eyes. 

"Fuck. Don't ever let this out, this stays between you and me, pal," spat Sans. Nick nodded, his eyes still bulging at the realization he had basically escaped death.

"Trust me, little buddy, I would never narc on you. Thanks, means a lot that you did that," he said. Sans nodded and wiped his eyes. He was exhausted. To be fair he was always exhausted. But after that morning he was so close to just passing out. 

"Don't mention it," he said. Nick nodded before running a hand over his ears. They popped back up once he dropped his paw back to his legs. 

"How long has it been?" He asked. Sans glanced out the window as he watched snow begin to fall. Too long. He simply shrugged. Nick nodded at the vague answer. He understood. 

"How's your brother?" He asked. Sans shrugged again. Sans hardly knew his brother, aside from the basics. They never really talked anymore. 

"He's been… great and terrible," he said. Nick chuckled wryly at the half-hearted joke. Sans glanced up at him. 

"How has… Hotland been for you?" He asked. Nick frowned softly and looked down at his feet. 

"It's good for business but… there's only so much I can do with that new Approved Brand Act. At this point it's more of a hobby. I get work other ways now," he explained. Sans rose a brow. 

"What kind of ways?" He asked. Nick avoided his eyes and shrugged. 

"Paint houses. Carpentry. I was hoping the Border Snow would up the ante a little, you know?" He said with a half-hearted smile. Sans nodded knowingly. Nick really didn't belong in a place like the Underground. The guy sold ice cream for Pete's sake. 

"Heh, remember when I jokingly sold fried snow back when we both quit Dante's… heh, good times," he said. Nick smiled and nodded. 

"Good times indeed. I know you've got this big reputation for being this awful asshole but… I don't see it," he said. Sans didn't know if that was supposed to make him feel better about himself or not. He didn't know what he wanted people to see him as anymore. _It doesn't have anything to do with Frisk, though…_ he thought. 

"Really? I could've sworn I looked like a mean motherfucker," he said. Nick snickered and stood up from his chair. He meandered to his box and hoisted it into his arms. 

"Those strangers don't know the real you, just… Sans the Skeleton. You were never mean to me. It was good to see ya, oh and uh, I was gonna stop by anyway. I wanted to give you this," he said as he pulled a wrapped up ice cream cone from the box. That fucking wrapper. It was white with baby blue letters that read _Nicecream._ He looked back up at Nick who smiled down at him. _What a fuckin pansy._ He mused with a growing grin. 

"Open it, it has a little note for you," he said. Sans rolled his eyes but he couldn't help but feel just a bit warm at his old friend's kindness. 

_"Why was the skeleton sad? Because he was_ bone _-ly. I knew you'd like that! For real though, don't be afraid to reach out."_

Sans glanced up at Nick and sighed. It was a nice little note. All of his products had something nice written on the packaging. It was his gimmick. Sans smiled softly and nodded to him. Nick grinned. 

"Thanks again. I'll have to name the Border snow after you!" He said as he hopped towards the door. Sans groaned. 

"Don't you fuckin' dare. Now get out of here before the dogs sniff ya' out!" He called as Nick jumped out of the checkpoint office. He waved through the window and Sans watched as he bounded up the road. _I can't believe no one's killed this guy yet._ He mused as he licked his ice cream. 

"Nevermind, he makes the best Goddamn ice cream in the world," he snickered. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You may be wondering how I'm pumping these chapters out and that's because I have already completed all of Part One. Currently I'm writing Chapter 27. Also, this whole Covid-19 business is really something. Hopefully the quarantine will give me some time to write more and finish Part 2. Stay safe out there guys. 
> 
> But yeah, what do we think of Nick Creamer? Good guy right? Was he really just there for snow? Who knows. 
> 
> Up next: Frisk finally gets that job she's been wanting! 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments to show you appreciate this story! Your feedback keeps me going, it's like coffee. Xoxo!


	17. Snowed Inn

Chapter Seventeen: Snowed Inn

* * *

Frisk sat in her room, legs crossed as she read her book of fairy tales. Her letter to Toriel was sitting on her desk; two pages of her heart poured out to the woman who understood her pain. It had been sitting there for the whole of yesterday when she finished and all that afternoon. She was grateful that Papyrus was letting her rest and not pushing her to clean his house. His house was honestly a bitch to clean. It would've been an even bigger bitch with her shitty injury. 

Flowey sat on the windowsill, his yellow petals extended to the ever setting light that streamed, honey gold through the glass. Dust floated through the rays and Frisk took the opportunity to drink in the beauty of the moment. 

Flowey sighed and turned to her, his seed filled mouth twisting into a soft smile. She returned the gesture. She watched as he crawled over to her and up her bed. Seeing a plant move like that still never failed to psych her out. 

"You need that job at Snowed Inn, and you can't apply for it if you're limping," he said firmly. Frisk nodded knowingly. She didn't want him to expend himself healing her just so she could get a job. It wasn't _that_ important. Well, it was, just not life threatening. It was more so a want than a need. A want for independence rather than a question of eviction. 

"It's ok—"

"—No, I have my energy back, and I’m going to make sure you're good to go. We need to get you back on your feet." Frisk sighed and nodded. Flowey smiled at her and began to summon his magic. She tensed as the vines of healing, green light wrapped around her and seared through her skin. That same cleansing fire that she would never get used to scorched her leg. She could practically feel every fiber rejoin. 

She choked and arched her back as the ligaments in her knee grew back together. As the light grew brighter she groaned and threw her head back at the agony. 

"Almost done," said Flowey as her other leg writhed against the duvet. _Oh my God let this be over!_

_"Oh mon Dieu!"_ She choked as she brought her hand to her forehead. The fire in her leg resided as the healing ended. Flowey rubbed her knee with his leaves and pat her to signal that he was finished and she sighed. 

"I hate being so fragile," she murmured. Flowey watched patiently as she slid off of the bed and got dressed into better clothes. How was she going to get that letter to Toriel? That was a border fence, people couldn't cross it. Except for Sans and the other sentries. Maybe Doug could deliver it! No, she didn't want to take advantage of his loyalty, and if Papyrus knew she had gone behind his back to break a law he wouldn't be so happy with her. She shuddered. _Maybe… I could get Sans to deliver it. He can teleport. Well, Papyrus can teleport too but I don't think…_ she mused. Papyrus didn't use his powers as often and as casually as Sans did. 

She had watched Sans do some of the simplest tasks with his magic, whereas Papyrus jumped through every physical hurdle to get things done without powers. Papyrus preferred to ride Calibri or walk to places unless they were _very_ far away like the Core. The letter would probably be more easily delivered by Sans. _He wouldn't do anything for me though, that's crazy thinking._ It was worth a try. _Or I could just ask Papyrus._ However, she couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but there was something so nuanced about Sans. She knew they shared some semblance of an understanding. If their conversation yesterday morning had meant anything. She doubted it though. _Everything is strange at three a.m._

Frisk decided she'd ask both of them. She grabbed her letter off the table and marched downstairs. Sans was probably either in his room or watching TV. Both of the brothers were off work today. She looked out the window to see Papyrus out in the yard feeding his basilisks and collecting their eggs. _He looks busy._ She felt a sinking weight in her stomach. _Ok._ Where was Sans? She looked around. He wasn't in the living room. _Jesus. I do not want to… for Toriel._ She stood at the bottom of the staircase and looked up. 

Was it just her, or were the stairs growing higher? She gulped and hesitantly jogged forth. She was going to get this letter delivered, Toriel deserved that. She crept towards Sans's room and clenched her jaw. 

_"C'est seulement une porte,"_ she whispered to herself as her fist hovered over the door. She swallowed her fear and knocked. There was a pause and she could practically hear her heart pound. Oh this had been a bad idea. 

She counted to herself and made a move to dart away before he opened it. Just as she took the step back to her own room, the door creaked open and she froze. _Too late._

"What… what the fuck do you want?" Grumbled Sans. She smiled nervously at him. _I'm so stupid!_ She gulped and pursed her lips. _Letter._

"Letter." She croaked. Sans rose a brow bone and looked down at her hands. _Don't just say letter._

"Yeah, that's… that's a letter. What am I supposed to do with it?" He asked, growing more annoyed. She bit her lip and looked down at her feet. It was almost like that soft, quiet morning had been forgotten. Or maybe he held grudges and he was still pissed at her for bringing up the Purge. 

"I need it delivered to someone," she murmured. Sans eyed her with curiosity and leaned against his door frame. 

"Listen, I have a full schedule today and between taking naps and being blissfully left alone for _one fucking weekend,_ I don't have time to deliver your stupid letter," he snapped. As he was about to close the door in her face, her arm shot forward and slammed against it, stopping him in his tracks. They stared at each other in shock. _What the hell am I doing?_

"I would ask Papyrus, but… I don't want to bother him, he seems like he's actually busy," she said. Sans glared at her. 

"Do I not look like a busy guy to you?" He tried to shut his door again, but she wedged her leg in. He groaned in dismay. This letter was important to her! She had promised Toriel she would write and send one. The poor old woman was all alone with nothing but the ruins of a past civilization and her grief. _She's getting this fucking letter if it's the last thing I do!_ Her soul pulsed with red light, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sans. 

"Please, I’m sure you can spare just a tiny moment in your _busy_ schedule to help me with one thing,” she pleaded. Sans narrowed his eyes. They could argue all day about this, he knew she could be stubborn, if not for the light glowing in her chest. _Determination._ He, however, was not going to submit to her will. He may not have had human magic, but he didn’t need it. He had pride. 

He hummed with thought as he feigned thinking over her proposal. He had already made up his mind, but he might as well have some fun with her while he was at it. 

“So where’s this letter goin’?” he asked. Frisk pursed her lips and looked down at her letter. Two pages of infallible cursive writing. _God why does she have to be so perfect?_ He shook away the thought. 

"To the Ruins," she murmured. Sans furrowed his brow at her. Frisk looked up at him through her lashes. How could she possibly charm him into doing this for her? She wasn't an idiot. She knew she had some kind of effect on him, even if he did vehemently deny it. Perhaps it was more when she wasn't trying. 

"The Ruins… yeah, no. Sorry sweetheart, but no one goes to the Ruins without consequences," he spat. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. _God he's such an asshole! It's just… fuck!_ She clenched her jaw as a frustrated lump grew in her throat. She was trapped! She couldn't even do _one_ thing without getting barred or mocked. She couldn't believe she had to grovel before people to get a fucking letter delivered. Tears of distress welled in her eyes and her lips curled. _No, I'm not crying._ She blinked back the tears and spared one last withering glare at Sans. 

"Fine. Enjoy your weekend off, _connard,"_ she uttered. Sans rolled his eyes and waved her off. 

"I will," he said with a curt nod. She growled under her breath as he shut her back out. She groaned in frustration, and now that he wasn't looking, her eyes welled up and tears spilled over her cheeks. 

_"Putain de trou du cul,"_ she spat as she slammed her door. She threw the letter back onto her desk in a fit of frustration and rage. _Fuck him! God._ Flowey flinched and looked up at her. 

"I'm gonna guess it wasn't a successful pitch," he said. She shook her head, paced about her room and cussed in French. _You know what? I'll deal with that later. I need to apply at Snowed Inn. That's what I need to do._ With her mind made up, she jerked her coat on, packed a small bag with her book of fairy tales and went rummaging for her mask. 

"I'm glad you have all your energy back… do you think Papyrus will be easy on you now that you're healed?" He asked. Frisk shrugged. 

"Probably not. He might give me a long list of chores, since I've been two days out of action," she growled as she wiped her eyes. Flowey smiled sadly at her. 

"So what's the plan?" He asked. Frisk sighed as she fastened the mask to her face. She brushed through her hair with her fingers as she thought on how to answer Flowey's inquiry. She found it enduring how ready he was to be by her side. It was good to have loyal friends. 

"Apply for the position at Snowed Inn. It's about time, right?" She asked. Flowey nodded and climbed onto her shoulder. She smiled as her horns rose from her head and with that finishing detail, she was ready to go. As she made her way to the staircase, she shot a withering glare at Sans's room. _Bastard_. 

As she left the house, Papyrus stopped her at the porch. 

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked. Frisk glanced past his shoulder toward the road. 

"She's going to apply for the job at Snowed Inn… is there a problem?" Asked Flowey in defense of her. Frisk bit the inside of her cheek. She begged to God that Papyrus hadn't changed his mind. He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her. 

"I don't remember asking the weed… but you are better?" He asked. Frisk swayed on her feet and nodded curtly. 

"Yes sir," she murmured. He grunted and looked out at his basilisks. His rain boots were covered in chicken shit and mud, and she hummed as he kicked them off as they spoke. 

"Well you better get to it then, shan't you? Be back by eight o'clock, no sooner, no later," he said. Frisk felt a weight lift off her chest and she practically squealed with glee. 

"Oh thank you Papyrus," she crooned. Papyrus shoved her out of his way, now barefoot as he stomped inside. 

"Yes, yes, now get on with it," he said as he closed the door. _Very busy._ She nodded to herself and grinned as she jumped down from the porch and skipped her way to the road. As she made it to the edge she broke into a jog. She clutched her bag tightly as it bounced at her thigh whilst she ran. Her breaths puffed out in hot fog around her as her boots crunched through the snow. 

This time, no one stood in her way as she jogged through the woods. Her lungs burned by the time she reached the bridge and she doubled over to catch her breath. She raised her hands to her head and walked over the bridge as her lungs fought for air. It felt good to run. There was something freeing to it, the closest natural thing humans could get to flight. 

_"Here, making each day of the year_

_Changing my life with a wave of her hand_

_Nobody can deny that there's something there_

_There, running my hands through her hair_

_Both of us thinking how good it can be_

_Someone is speaking, but she doesn't know he's there."_ The sweet Beatles song bubbled out of her as she skipped through the woods, a small dance in her step. 

"I can't understand why anyone would want to hurt you," murmured Flowey bitterly. Frisk glanced at him and frowned. 

"What do you mean?" She asked. Flowey gestured to her and smiled sadly. 

"You know what I mean… do people really need to feed their ego that much?" He spat. Frisk sighed and shrugged helplessly. It was a true fact that those who didn't feel like they were enough took it out on those they felt were weaker. It was a cruel cycle. She wasn't exactly an angel though. 

"I'm not a sweetheart you know," she said. Flowey rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

"I know that… who is? I still believe you don't deserve the shit you've gone through. And just because you're not perfect doesn't mean you deserved any of it," he grumbled. Frisk smiled softly at him and rose her fingers to affectionately caress his golden petals. 

"You're the bestest friend I've ever had," she said. Flowey smiled at her. 

"You mean that?" He asked. She nodded firmly. He was like a little brother. There was a vulnerability to him that made her want to protect and shield him, and there was also something fiery in him. Something that made him into a guardian. As much as she wanted to protect him, he also wanted to shield her as well. They made a good team. 

"Of course," she said. Flowey beamed at the praise and squeezed her shoulders with his vines; the best hug he could give, given his current state. 

"I could say the same. The only person who's treated me the way you do was Cha—… my sister. The one who… who poisoned herself," he said. Frisk bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced at Flowey. He was hiding something from her. She knew if she thought about it any harder it would lead her into a deeper, much messier can of worms, and if Flowey wasn't comfortable with that, she wouldn't pry. She had her suspicions, however. Frisk wasn't stupid. 

"I bet she was the best," she said. Flowey grew silent as he fell into his thoughts. He glanced up at her with a hint of remorse and he nodded soberly. 

"Yeah… she was," he murmured. Frisk let the conversation trail away as they walked. Sometimes all someone needed was a comforting presence while they mulled things over. More often than not, Frisk preferred the companionable silence that filled the gaps between sentiments. Not awkward silence, of course, just perfectly comfortable silence which no one was obligated to break. Like a blanket of snow on a bright winter's day. Or the calm just after a storm, when the grass smells like rain and the world holds its breath. It was always in that silence that Frisk felt the most fulfilled. 

It wasn't long before they arrived in Snowden. The bustling little village was just as alive as the last time she had been there. Monsters meandered through the streets, some leaned against walls and talked politics. They paid very little attention to her and that fact was freeing. She jogged down a bright street, the snow drifts almost blinding. A horse drawn carriage wheeled past her and she noticed that those were not in fact horses, but Centaurs. 

She hummed in delight at being surrounded with nice, simple and old things. The underground was a strange mix of the past and the present. Old technologies and new ones. She smiled as she pushed open the large glass door to Bonnie's shop. As the bell rang, the bunny poked her head up and smiled warmly at her. 

"Moxie! Oh it's good to see you again, suga'! Is… um, is Sans here with you?" She asked. Frisk shook her head and meandered over to the counter. Her eyes wandered to the cafe, half expecting Muffet to be there. However, the spider woman was nowhere to be found, and she assumed she was back in Hotland. She couldn't help but feel a small ounce of disappointment. 

"What can I do for you?" She asked. Frisk glanced around her and smiled despite knowing Bonnie couldn't see her. 

"Well, I'm finally doing it, I'm spreading my wings and applying at your sister's hotel," she said. Bonnie grinned and leaned over the counter. 

"That's great! I told her about you. She's excited to meet you," she said. Frisk beamed and nodded. 

"I am too… working for the brothers is… it's like walking on eggshells if I'm being honest," she murmured. Bonnie nodded solemnly. 

"Trust me, that's exactly what it's like, and everyone knows it," she said. Frisk shook her head and scoffed. 

"I just don't get them. What is their deal?" She asked. Bonnie shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. 

"No one really knows. The rumors get more wild and insane every year. I try not to gossip, you never know who's listenin'. I suppose they're not so bad though. Sure, they have a bit of a temper but… compared to the Royal Guard in Hotland, the Core… _the Capitol,_ they're rather pleasant," she murmured. Frisk frowned. 

"They're weird… so filled with contradictions," she said. Bonnie nodded knowingly. 

"Mmhm. We have it easy in Snowden," she said. Frisk shook her head in disbelief. 

"It is… is there… any history between them and the Purge?" She asked. Bonnie's ears lowered and she pursed her lips at the mention. Frisk bit her lip. It must've been a touchy subject for everyone. 

"I mean, who doesn't have a history with the Purge? Seventeen years… it's touched everyone down here, hasn't it?" She asked. Frisk nodded solemnly. 

"Yeah… yeah it has. Um, thank you, I ought to go apply now, thank you so much for your help," she said softly. Bonnie nodded at her and waved. 

"I'll hopefully see you around some, suga'," she called as Frisk made her way to the door. As she exited, a young, punk looking kid threw open the door and pushed past her. 

"What are you lookin' at?" He spat. Frisk scoffed and eyed Bonnie. Bonnie shook her head and waved her off. Just across the street was the large hotel and just past _that_ was the town square, giant dead tree and all. She shuddered at the memory as she heaved open the hotel door. 

The inside of the hotel was cozy and completely dwarfed her, it reminded her once more just how large monsters were compared to her. A large roaring fireplace in the lobby made her immediately feel welcome. There was a big hardwood staircase that led up to the rooms. Big, black fur rugs covered the floor. Up on the walls were mounted deer heads… but that wasn't just any deer. The closer Frisk looked, the more freaky she realized it was. The mouth opened right and left instead of up and down, and four beady eyes glared down at her. It's antlers were as large as trees, and were decorated with many ornaments. She gulped and made her way to the counter. 

No one was there. She hummed as she glanced at Flowey who merely shrugged. _Very helpful._ She spotted the gilded bell on the counter and she reached over on her tippy toes to ring it. A soft _ding_ resounded through the hall and a door opened. A pale yellow bunny demoness hopped out of her office. She resembled her sister closely, if not for the curl of her hair and bright pink cheeks. Her ears were pointed straight up with alertness and her almond eyes twinkled with anticipation. Her nose twitched when she caught sight of Frisk. 

"Oh hello, hello, welcome to Snowed Inn. How may I—Moxie! You're Moxie! Oh Bonnie has told me so much about you, and I um, I watched you on Dinner with Mettaton. You were very graceful on that interview. Made the two of them look like a bunch of fools," she whispered with a wink. Frisk smiled and nodded. 

"Thank you," she said. Charlotte looked around, her nose twitching in that sweet rabbit way. She eyed Frisk and grinned a sweet buck toothed smile. 

"Are you here for an interview, hun?" She asked. Frisk couldn't help the smile that grew on her face. She simply nodded and twiddled her fingers. Charlotte nodded matter of factly. 

"Bonnie recommended you, I'm sure you know. We can just skip the troublesome application process and get right down to it. That work for you?" She asked. Frisk nodded hastily. 

"Yes ma'am. This is a very charming business," she said. Charlotte hummed and looked about, a small hint of remorse filling her eyes. 

"Yep… belonged to my husband, Charlie," she gestured at a picture frame on the back wall. A family portrait. Charlotte, Bonnie, three small children and a pale-orange rabbit. She assumed he was Charlie. She glanced at Charlotte to see a sad frown on her face. 

_"I mean, who doesn't have a history with the Purge? Seventeen years… it's touched everyone down here, hasn't it?"_

"Well come on now, hun. We can do the meeting in my office," she said, gesturing for Frisk to come around the desk. She joined her in a small yellow room. About a thousand pictures of her family littered the cramped office. Her desk was cluttered with pictures, a huge Microsoft computer that looked like it had come straight out of the nineties, bills and other miscellaneous papers. 

Charlotte sat in her worn desk chair and ran her paw through her hair absentmindedly. She looked tired, Frisk realized. Absolutely worn out just past the eyes. She tried to hide just how much the wear and tear of the business weighed on her. She blinked hard and put her glasses on as she booted up her computer. The whirring of the computer's engine filled the room as she stared boredly at the black screen as white letters filled the space. 

"That's gonna take awhile… let's start," she said. She smiled at Frisk and cupped her hands on her desk. Frisk sat straight as a board in the big chair across from her. 

"After… um, after Charlie passed, I lost a lot of employees and business. Things really… haven't been the same. I'm running everything by myself these days, sometimes Bonnie comes in and helps. I just need to know that I can trust you," she said shakily. Frisk bit her lip. She began to realize just how much tragedy the monsters truly had been through as she gazed at the tired, pain-filled eyes of Charlotte. 

"You can trust me," she said. _An unorthodox interview, but who's complaining?_ She thought as she shifted in her seat. Charlotte smiled at her. 

"So let's talk about your skill sets. You clean the brothers' house. So you're familiar with room service?" She asked. Frisk nodded curtly. 

"That's correct. I'm sure Lieutenant Papyrus could vouch for me," she said. Charlotte shook her head at the suggestion. 

"Oh no, I believe you. Currently I run the business aspect, the front desk, I clean the rooms, cook the breakfast. It's really… hard… especially the kind of people that stay here. It was… it wasn't always like this. When Charlie was alive it… well," she murmured, before trailing off. Frisk nodded in understanding. She didn't want to focus on the smaller details. She was sure she could handle it. Charlotte glanced up at her and adjusted her glasses. 

"Sorry to rant to you," she said. Frisk shook her head. She didn't mind at all, it reminded her that everyone of them were all just trying to survive. It also felt nice to be treated like a real person for the first time. She had a feeling that her new relationship with Charlotte would be a beautiful thing. 

"I can also cook. I can be here in the mornings until the afternoon," she provided. Charlotte smiled and nodded. 

"Perfect. I do have to warn you, the pay right now isn't as good as it used to be. Only eight gold an hour," she said. Frisk shook her head and leaned forward. 

"I'm not in it for the money, Ms. Charlotte, as long as I can work, I'll be ok," she said. Charlotte smiled at her in relief. Frisk could tell the pay had driven off a lot of potential employees. Frisk frowned at that thought. Charlotte seemed like a sweet woman in a bad situation, Frisk could relate, and her soul burned with the need to help her. 

"Ok. Tell me about yourself. I know you're from Hotland, but, I want to know who Moxie is. I might as well get to know you now, right?" She asked. Frisk smiled. She felt so safe here. She felt _understood._

"I… used to be a dancer. I loved dance. I still do I just… I just don't do it as much anymore. Um, I'm a connoisseur of old music and I'm what you might call a movie buff… I love to read in my spare time," she said. Charlotte smiled sweetly and nodded along. 

"What movies do you like?" She asked. Frisk froze up. _Shit… I don't know any monster movies!_ She could almost feel Flowey reeling at the question, like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't. 

"Uhm… heh, I don't know if I should say. It's not really a Monster movie," she murmured truthfully. Charlotte shot her a puzzled look. 

"You watch human movies? I've never watched a human movie before. Are they any good?" She asked. Frisk pursed her lips as she thought about the politics of the Underground. A sly sparkle glinted in her dark eyes. 

"Let's be honest, ma'am… _any_ movie is better than whatever Mettaton makes," she whispered. Charlotte burst out laughing, throwing her head back as the two ladies cackled over the jab at the celebrity. 

"Oh hush your mouth! You're funny, hun, I'll give you that," she said with a giggle. Frisk couldn't stop herself from grinning like an idiot at the liveliness that bubbled up from her. Charlotte eyed her, her smile flickering with thought. Finally she nodded and turned to her computer. 

"I believe you qualify. You'll definitely take the load off my shoulders. I just need to enter you into the system," she explained. Frisk smiled and crossed her legs as she sat with bubbling anticipation. She had done it. She was going to get her independence from the brothers. Finally, she could start living for herself. She could do something respectable with her life. She couldn't help but feel excited. 

"Alright… what's your last name, hun?" She asked. Frisk glanced in the general direction of Flowey. What would be a convincing last name? She thought about the women she had known in her life. She recalled the woman who had looked over her when she worked for Claude. Claire Valentine. She had been like a mother to her. Frisk bit her lip and nodded softly. 

"Valentine. Moxie Valentine," she said. Charlotte chuckled and nodded as she typed it in. 

"Ok. That's a cute name," she said. Frisk smiled at the memory of Claire. She had been a strong woman. She had made Frisk into who she was today. She had been a guardian and a mentor, and Frisk felt a burst of pride that she would continue her legacy. 

"I like to think so too," she said sweetly. The two ladies giggled with each other. Charlotte glanced at her. 

"Alright, come around here, I'll need a phone number, mailing address and you'll need a password and username," she said. Frisk nodded and jogged around to hover over Charlotte's shoulder. She hunched over the keyboard as Charlotte leaned away to put in her information. She had grown accustomed to the brothers' home, and their numbers. With the sheet completely filled out, Charlotte submitted it and smiled up at her. 

"Alright! Welcome aboard, honey!" She exclaimed. Frisk smiled and they shook hands. 

"I promise not to let you down," she said. Charlotte waved off the sentiment. 

"You're going to be great. Are there any questions you have for me?" She asked. Frisk shook her head and the two came to a natural close. 

"Well, I think that's it. You'll start tomorrow, and I'll add you to my schedule. Do you think you could be here at six a.m?" She asked. Frisk nodded and Charlotte sighed in relief. 

"That's good. I'll see if I can find a uniform and name tag for you tonight. I'm excited to work with you, Moxie," she said. Frisk smiled and made her way to the door. 

"Absolutely. I'm so thankful for this opportunity," she said. She had come far. She could feel a touch of pride at the knowledge that _she_ had gotten herself here. All part of her plan. 

"Of course. You're free to go now, see you soon, hun!" She called. Frisk waved to her and Charlotte saw her out. As they walked through the doors, they witnessed as Bonnie dragged the kid that Frisk had bumped into out of her store. 

"And stay out you punk!" She snapped. A small crowd had gathered and Frisk gulped. 

"What did he do?" Asked a demon. Bonnie growled as she tossed the kid onto the street. 

"He tried to steal from me, that's what. Little wise ass thought he could get away with coming into my store and snatching some booze!" She accused. Charlotte looked, wide-eyed, at Frisk at the commotion. Frisk could only watch. 

"I didn't do shit!" Growled the reptilian demon child. Bonnie rolled her eyes to the heavens. 

"Spare me the excuses. I ought to call the Royal Guard for that stunt." The crowd gasped and murmured under their breath. The monster kid paled at the threat and he shook his head frantically. 

"No, that isn't… please don't call the guard!" He pleaded. Bonnie crossed her arms. 

"You're lucky you didn't walk out the door with that. I don't want to see you in my store again, y'hear me? Next time I see you, I'm calling Papyrus to deal with you," She spat, before waving off the crowd. Frisk shared a look with Charlotte, and the yellow bunny shrugged. 

"I'm glad my boys don't act like that. I'd kick their precious little butts," she grunted. Frisk snorted with laughter and nodded. 

"That's how it is. Alright, Charlotte, thank you so much for your time. I should be getting back," she said. Charlotte nodded and retreated back into her hotel. Frisk ignored the ruckus as the kid got reprimanded by a few more locals. Snowden was a tight knit community, and there was something charming about that fact. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly happy. She had the job. She'd be starting soon. Soon she wouldn't be a slave to the brothers' will. She had a place to go, she had a way to make money. She could provide for herself! 

As she giggled with triumph, she made her way to the public library. She just had one more errand to go. She needed to return the book of fairy tales and then check out as many history books as she could without looking suspicious. 

As she stepped foot near the marble staircase, the lion statues shot to life. 

"Halt! Who dares enter the chamber of knowledge? Answer these riddles three! Prove you are worthy of the secrets kept inside these hallowed halls," snarled the gargoyle. Frisk jumped back, giving a small shout of shock. She had forgotten about these pesky lions! As much as she despised him, it would've been handy to have Sans by her side. No one would've fucked with her with him near her. She realized just how vulnerable she was all alone. _Don't think like that. You're a force to be reckoned with. You don't need that sack of shit. Riddles? Let them come. I'm smart, I can figure out a riddle or three._

"Fine, hit me with your best shot," she groaned. The first lion chortled with pride at the willingness of his new opponent. 

"Your first riddle. _This thing all things devour: birds, beasts, trees, flowers; gnaws iron, bites steel; grinds hard stones to meal; slays kings, ruins towns; and beats high mountains down._ What is it?" He snarled. Frisk sighed haughtily. What would happen if she didn't answer? _Do you really want to find out? No._ Frisk paced as she thought about the riddle. Flowey eyed her, wanting to help, but knowing if anyone saw him they might try to connect him with the horns on her head. Her mind snagged on an answer and she jumped with excitement. 

"Time!" She said. The other lion purred with content and she grinned triumphantly. 

"Very good. Now for your second riddle. _What can bring back the dead; make you cry, make you laugh, make you young; is born in an instant, yet lasts a lifetime?"_ Frisk froze with the crushing weight of the fact that she didn't know the answer. She repeated the riddle over and over in her head. _Bring back to life… cry… laugh…Young… cry… lasts a lifetime… what can last a lifetime?_

"Can you give me a hint?" She asked. The first lion snarled at her. 

"No hints!" He snapped. Frisk groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. Flowey tapped her with his leaf and mouthed something at her. Frisk furrowed her brow at him. _Lasts a lifetime. What is he saying? Mommy? Mammary—_

"—Memory!" She blurted. The lions gave a pleased, throaty rumble at the correct answer. 

"Right again. Huh," murmured the first lion. 

"She's good," grunted the second. Frisk snickered under her breath. This was all so ridiculous. 

"Now, for your last riddle. Get this one right and you will be granted access into the library. _Some try to hide, some try to cheat; but time will show, we always will meet. Try as you might to guess my name."_ Frisk hummed with thought. She had to admit, she was having fun with this, as tedious and annoying as it was. Might as well find the silver lining. _Hide… cheat… time… always meet. Cheat. What can you cheat? A test… it's not that. What do people try to hide from? Try to cheat? Time… cheat Death!_

"The answer is death," she stated. The lion gave an uproarious cheer. 

"She is really good at this," murmured the second lion. The first one climbed back onto his post at the staircase. Frisk grinned triumphantly and jogged up the stairs. _Finally._

"That was ridiculous," grumbled Flowey. Frisk snickered as she hoisted open the huge doors. The Sphinx at the front desk glanced up from her book. She scrutinized Frisk as she came up to her desk. 

"Good afternoon. I'm here to return a book," she said as she rummaged through her bag. She pulled out the book of fairy tales and plopped it on the counter. The sphinx leaned forward and opened the cover. 

"Thank you. Is there anything else?" She asked as she stamped the book and put it in a bin for returns. Frisk glanced around. 

"Yes, actually. I need history books," she said. The sphinx narrowed her shrewd eyes and hummed in thought. 

"Is that all?" She asked. Frisk nodded curtly and swayed on her toes. 

"Down that aisle," she said, pointing down a narrow aisle just ahead of them. Frisk thanked her and jogged into the rows of books. 

"What do you need history books for?" Asked Flowey. Frisk searched through the books and skimmed the titles on the spines. 

"Brush up on some trivia. I don't know anything about what goes on down here. Ah, here," she murmured. She pulled out a large book that had a portrait of a monster that looked very similar to Toriel. It was a man, however. He was decorated in the finest clothes, and a jet black beard framed his face. Two horns spiraled out from his head and his jet black hair fell to his shoulders. Her eyes wandered down to the title. _King Dreemur: His Majesty's Glorious Reign._ This could prove handy.

"That's Asgore." Frisk glanced at Flowey. His eyes were filled with a mixture of hatred and sadness. Frisk remembered what Toriel had told her in the ruins. She slipped it into her bag and continued down the aisle. She picked out two other books. An Account of Legends and Heroes, and an average school textbook. 

With her picks in her bag, she made it back to the front desk to check them out. The sphinx stamped the books and then heaved a hefty ledger onto the counter. 

"Please sign your name," she said, pointing to a blank spot on the list. Frisk bit her lip and quickly scribbled a vague semblance to _Moxie Valentine._ The sphinx looked it up and down, added a line in the column beside her name, and then snapped the book closed. 

"Alright, enjoy. Ms. Valentine… _occidere aut occidi._ " she said. Frisk frowned at the maxim, a chill rolling up her spine. She waved hesitantly as she jogged out from the library. 

She had a lot of studying to do, and with that she forgot about the unease that swept over her. She didn't have time to feel darkness. That same giddiness from earlier overcame her as she half walked, half ran out of the little village and back to the brothers' house. The brothers' house. At this point she had started to consider it her house too. She would never fool herself into thinking that for a second, however. Especially now that she was so close to freedom. She could taste it. As she pranced over the bridge she let out a victorious whoop. 

"We did it Flowey!" She exclaimed. Flowey giggled and nodded. 

"You did it!" He said. She smiled at the thought. It wouldn't be long until she was her own woman. No longer would she be strangled by the shadow of Damian or _Sans_ . She would be Frisk De La Noir. Or… rather _Moxie Valentine._ That idea was so devilishly exciting. _It won't be long now._

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There's so much going on, but all I want to say is how much I love Charlotte and the Library Lions. They are just... Mm wholesome. 
> 
> I'll be changing my update schedule. So far it's been every other day, but now that I think I have a bigger audience I'll be going to a twice a week update. So next Update will be Saturday and then Wednesday. 
> 
> Up Next: Sans continues to baffle Frisk with his strange ways and Frisk starts work. 
> 
> If you liked this chapter, don't be afraid to leave feedback! I love hearing from you guys! Xoxo!


	18. Promises

**A/N: Hello, happy Saturday. How are we enjoying our Coronacations? Stay safe and enjoy your Quarantine with a new chapter! Also, some concept art drawn by yours truly:**

[Kathy](https://photos.app.goo.gl/WtWwpz6o6WiymT1k8)[ Baxi](https://photos.app.goo.gl/WtWwpz6o6WiymT1k8)[ and Brittany Becki](https://photos.app.goo.gl/WtWwpz6o6WiymT1k8) [concept art](https://photos.app.goo.gl/WtWwpz6o6WiymT1k8)

[Snowden NPCs (Charlotte, Doug and Bonnie) Concept art ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/vdLNYRm8ajf3zJCN8)

**Now without further ado, Chapter 18~**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Promises

* * *

Late that night, the house was cloaked in dark silence. Sans lay in his bed, staring at the darkest corner of his room as sleep and alertness fought with his conscious. He was exhausted, but his body wouldn't allow him to get any damn shut eye. His mind was far too active to calm the fuck down too. 

He thought about many things as he lay in his bed, eyeing the shadows. He thought about the Purge, about Nick and Doug… about Frisk. She had wanted him to do something. Sans ground his teeth as he played the interaction over in his mind. He had been a bit harsh with her, and she hadn't even really done anything. It was just him in a bad mood. A lot of their negative interactions were just him in a bad mood. A guilty weight hung on his soul as he recalled the tears welling in her eyes. It must've been an important letter.  _ Oh the things she must think of me.  _ He thought with a wry chuckle. He didn't know why it mattered to him, nothing had ever really mattered to him in a long time. She  _ riled  _ him up in ways he couldn't fathom. 

He sat up in bed and groaned into his hands.  _ Fuck… what is she doing to me?  _ He thought as he dragged himself out from the covers. What was he doing? It was so easy not to do anything, but here he was. He growled under his breath.  _ Fuck it. _ He picked his way through his room and slipped past his door. 

_ —meow.  _ Sans glanced across at Arial as she eyed him from the staircase. 

"You nosy bitch," he grumbled as he made his way down the hall to Frisk's room. God he was going crazy. Why was he doing this? Did she really get to him that much? Arial purred at his feet and rubbed against his legs and he shook her off as he slowly turned her door knob.  _ Ugh, I feel like such a creep.  _ He thought as he inched his way into her room. His eye lights scanned the room for the letter. It was haphazardly sitting on the desk. He glanced at Frisk. She was sleeping, a hard frown on her face. Her short, brown hair messily crowned her head. He raised a brow and watched her silently as she whimpered. 

Arial jumped onto the bed and Sans choked as she groaned.  _ Do not wake her up you shit.  _ He thought at the shade as it stood on her chest.  _ What are you doing?  _ He bared his teeth and crept toward the letter. 

Flowey was sleeping at her feet much like a cat, but when Arial had jumped up, his sleep was disturbed. Flowey groaned as he glanced up. His eyes widened, mortified at the presence of the skeleton in his and Frisk's one sanctuary. 

Sans picked up the letter between his thumb and index finger. He jumped when Flowey let out a surprised gasp. Sans whirled around and gestured for him to be quiet. 

"What the heck are  _ you _ doing in here?" He spat quietly so as not to wake up Frisk. Sans shushed him desperately. Frisk moaned and turned away. Sans clenched his jaw and held up the letter. Flowey came to a shocking realization. He couldn't help but smirk smugly at the skeleton across from him. 

"I thought there was no way you'd go near the Ruins on your  _ one weekend off,"  _ he purred as Arial pressed her nose to Frisk's forehead. Sans shot the shade a warning glance. 

"I changed my mind," he murmured. He eyed Flowey, who was grinning smugly at Sans's change of heart.  _ This fucker… oh hold on a minute.  _

"Do you know where this letter is supposed to go?" He asked quietly. Flowey shrugged. 

"Perhaps," he said. Sans narrowed his eyes as he came up with an idea.  _ Do I really want to deal with this guy? I mean… ah fuck it. I'm already one foot deep, might as well jump in.  _

"You're comin' with me, Daisy," he said. Flowey's eyes widened. 

"What?" He asked dumbly. Frisk groaned again and shifted in her sleep. Arial closed her silver eyes, a purple, shadowy aura falling over Frisk. Sans watched as the hard frown on her face softened. He couldn't understand how someone could be so gorgeous. He quickly shook away the thought and glared back down at Flowey. 

"You wanna do somethin' for Frisk or not? If—" 

"—fine… just… please don't hurt me…" he murmured. Sans rolled his eyes and snatched Flowey off the bed. As he crept back to the door, he heard a small groan. 

_ "Il est à venir,"  _ her soft voice whispered subconsciously. Sans eyed her as he gently closed the door. He glanced at Flowey and grunted. 

"So tell me, trashbag, why the change of heart?" He asked as he climbed onto Sans's shoulder. Sans grabbed his jacket from the mudroom and Flowey gasped as the heavy coat crashed onto him. Sans chuckled as Flowey snarled and fought past the suffocating fur hood. 

"Well it was either this or toss and turn for the next six hours." Flowey grumbled at the matter of fact answer. He knew that wasn't  _ all  _ it could be. He watched as Sans delicately folded the letter and pocketed it. 

"She's gotten to you, hasn't she? Ha! I thought her charms didn't work on you?" Was this damn weed always so antagonizing? 

"They don't," grumbled Sans. She didn't try to charm him, she didn't need to. She just merely existed in her perfectness and she had gotten to him a  _ long _ time ago. Those big brown eyes. Her sweet smile. He revelled in any moment he made her laugh or smile against her will. She would force it back and frown hard at him, but he  _ knew _ . She treated smiling at him like it was some kind of defeat. It was so intriguing.  _ Stop thinking like that.  _ He scolded himself.  _ You sound like an idiot.  _

"Mhm… I don't understand you. Why are you so mean to her one moment and then the next you're…getting her records and delivering her letters?" He asked as Sans trudged through the snow. He glanced at Flowey and bared his teeth. 

"Can you shut the fuck up? I brought you with me to navigate, not interrogate," he snapped. Flowey flinched away; he glowered at him as he shrunk back down. 

Red mist surrounded them and as Sans walked through it, they came back out on the other end to the wildwood. He knew where the Ruins were, or at least the door to them, but he didn't know who Frisk wanted the letter delivered to. Especially not  _ where _ he would find them. 

Up ahead was the giant Ebony door to the Ruins. The Delta Rune emblazoned on the uppermost crest. He glanced at Flowey. Flowey smirked at him and Sans rolled his eyes. 

"Are you regretting taking me?" Crooned Flowey as Sans heaved open the door. This was ridiculous. He was regretting the entire affair.  _ It'll make you feel less shitty, so just shut up and get it over with.  _

He was met by an endless staircase and he groaned. He turned back to the door, almost wanting to bolt back out and go home, but he had chosen to do this. Instead of backing out, he shut the door behind him.  _ I should've stayed home.  _ The letter practically burned in his pocket however, and he sighed. Putting one foot in front of the other, he made his way up the stairs.

He hated just how easily she had crawled into his mind. Granted, he didn't always think of her, for the most part he went about his day, worked, and dealt with Papyrus. He only really spared time in his thoughts for Frisk De La Noir after she  _ did  _ something. Lately however, his thoughts turned to her a lot more. It irked him. Maybe delivering this letter would dissolve those thoughts and fancies. 

He had made it halfway up the stairs and his femurs felt like jelly. 

"Oh God. Did she climb down all of these? She's lucky she wasn't going up. I'm gonna die. I'm actually going to die," he groaned as he leaned against the wall. Flowey giggled impishly at Sans's pain.  _ Little bastard. I can't believe I brought him with me.  _

"This is when I kill you," he spat. That shut him up.  _ Little fucker.  _ He started back up the stairs when he caught his breath. Normally he'd just teleport, but he was exhausted and he wanted to save the last bit of magic he had that night for going back home. 

"Why are you so tired all the time anyway?" Asked Flowey. Sans shrugged as he climbed up the steps. 

"Because, flower power—"

"—Oh how long did it take to come up with that one—"

"—Oh my God do you ever shut the fuck up? Fuck. Anyway, it's not a big secret. I just have sleep paralysis. I don't want to fuckin' deal with it. It lasts way too long. Way longer than sleep paralysis should last. I just prefer to take naps," he explained. Flowey shook his head. 

"I don't understand how you have any energy for magic," he grunted. Sans chuckled. 

"I take a  _ lot  _ of naps, and I eat comfort food… Papyrus knows that. It doesn't hurt that he just really loves Italian food. It works for both of us," he chuckled softly. Flowey smiled slightly, but, much like Frisk, he forced a frown on his face.  _ Like brother and sister those two.  _

"You and Papyrus act like you hate each other," noted Flowey. Sans grunted at the hard truth that was his fraternal relationship. Things had been going downhill for awhile. 

"Papyrus is… insecure. He takes it out on me because I'm the root of his insecurity. Or at least, that's what I've figured. I've tried to do everything to make him happy… why am I telling you this?" He grumbled. Flowey shrugged, a sly look on his face. 

"I think you have a lot of things you want to get off your chest, but you're so emotionally constipated because that's the society you live in… I also think that's why we're delivering the letter at midnight instead of when Frisk asked you too," he said. Sans winced with annoyance. 

"Listen I didn't bring you along to pinpoint all my baggage, you're not a therapist. You're a GPS," he growled. Flowey shut up and looked away, humming in thought. Sans didn't want to believe what Flowey had said was true.  _ I can't be psychoanalyzed by a weed named  _ Flowey.  _ What the fuck kind of name is that?  _

Finally, they made it to the top of the stairs. Sans doubled over to catch his breath. He was beat! He was not climbing back down those again.  _ Oh God, why were there so many. Why was that necessary?  _ He thought as he slid down the moss covered wall to get a break. 

"Ugh, I think I should just, y'know, take a quick break," he murmured. Flowey rose a brow. 

"And stay in the Ruins? Just get it done," he said. Sans groaned and rose to his feet again. He was going to die.  _ What now?  _

"Alright, this is when I need you. Whatever the fuck is past that door?" He asked. Flowey sighed shakily and shook his head. 

"It's… well, it's Toriel Dreemur," he said. Sans's eye sockets widened and he glanced back. He remembered that name. 

"Does she accept postage?" He asked. Flowey shrugged helplessly. 

"For the longest time she's been… lost, angry. I've watched so many die at her hands. Frisk was the first person who has… gotten through to her," he said. Sans glanced down and hid the small smile on his face. Of course she was. 

He glanced at the door and knocked hard on it. Flowey shook his head anxiously. 

"She's… she's not going to," he murmured. Before he could finish there was a soft  _ who's there  _ on the other side. Sans's breath caught and he shared a shocked look with Flowey. Well now what was he supposed to do? He felt a spike of panic. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, maybe nothing. Definitely not the infamous, exiled Queen of the Underground. He gulped and ran his hand over his skull. 

"Uhh…shit, ok, heh…"  _ Did she ask Who's there?  _ A cheeky grin grew on his face and he leaned against the door. 

"Dishes," he said loudly. The woman on the other side paused for a long time. Flowey glanced at him with mortified disgust. 

"Dishes… who?" Asked the old woman. Sans tongued his fangs in thought as he took out the letter. He looked for a crease in the door. There was a very slender crack on the floor that he could slip the paper through. 

"Dishes… for you," he said as he slipped the letter underneath. The woman gasped, and shortly a faint giggle filled the silence. The giggle grew into a hearty laugh and Sans chuckled along.  _ That was classy. Good job Sans.  _

"She actually wrote to me… Oh, I have something for her, don't go anywhere," she ordered. Sans glanced at Flowey and grinned. 

"At least  _ someone _ enjoys my jokes," he said. Flowey rolled his eyes. They waited in silence before the woman returned. 

"Knock, knock," she called. Sans smiled softly and glanced at Flowey. 

"Who's there?" He asked. The old woman snorted as she thought up a joke she could tell. 

"Apple," she said. The door began to grate open. Sans stepped back with a hint of shock. He couldn't help but feel a small ounce of fear enter him. No one had ever been in the Ruins. For good reason too. The Queen had been made to be some kind of feral beast and Sans was honestly scared she’d attack him. 

"Uh, Apple who?" He asked shakily. A velvety white hand extended from the crack in the door. It was holding a small plate of cinnamon apple pie. 

"The apple of your p- _ eye,"  _ said the old woman. Sans snorted with laughter, and his inhibitions melted away. Wasn’t this woman supposed to be terrifying and insane? She had publicly attacked the king after all, maimed several guards… 

"That was good…" he murmured. The queen chuckled sadly, and Sans could hear the guilt, grief and sorrow dripping from her voice. 

"Give this to Frisk, why don't you, sir?" Said Toriel. Sans delicately took the plate of pie. Had Frisk saved the Crazed Queen of myth? 

"How is she?" She asked. Sans looked down at the pie and clenched his jaw. She was stubborn, clever, charming… maybe even angelic as Doug had so fondly pointed out. Witnessing the crazed Queen joke around with him and give him pie to take back to the human was slowly convincing him the same verdict about her. 

"I'm sure it says in the letter…" he murmured. The hand withdrew. 

"Promise me you'll protect that child. She saved me from myself… she'll save the Underground from itself. Don't you let any harm come to her, alright young man?" Sans felt that same guilt he felt every time he looked at Frisk weighing on his soul and he sighed. That was already too late… He really was a horrid person. He didn’t know how to make it up to her. For a while he didn’t know if he wanted to, but hearing the old woman… 

He wasn't one to make promises… but someone who genuinely liked bad jokes… they had an integrity you just couldn't say no to. With a sad smile, Sans nodded. 

"Promise," he said. The door was sealed shut once more and Sans stood there silently, with the pie in his hand. A bit burnt on the edges. 

"That was corny," grunted Flowey. Sans snickered at the words. 

"Hey, it might be corny, but I like to think I can  _ apple-ly  _ my sense of humor to any situation," he said smugly. Flowey groaned at the pun as Sans turned back to the staircase. 

Red mist. The Ruins were once again left to its desolate solitude and Sans and Flowey returned to the farmhouse. 

Sans set Flowey down in the kitchen by the window sill as he put the pie in the refrigerator. He wrote a small note for Frisk and set it on top of the pie. He grinned softly before rolling his eyes when he saw the shitty look on Flowey's face. 

"You're just a big softie aren't you?" He asked with awe. Sans clenched his jaw at the accusation and shot a withering look at Flowey. He didn’t say anything though. There was nothing left to say. So, with a dark sigh, he turned away and vacated the kitchen. 

With that adventure done and over with, he crashed on the couch to get some much needed shut eye. For the first time in awhile, he could finally sleep peacefully. 

⁂

_ "If you run, I'll chase you," _

_ She was in the woods. She could hear the howls of the hellhounds. They were after her. She took off running into the night. Zigzagging through the woods. Her breaths for air were strangled. It was as if she was being suffocated. She screamed _ .  _ Someone grabbed her from behind. The sound of a pistol cocked behind her.  _

⁂

  
  


Frisk woke up early, much earlier than usual. She glanced around to see Arial sleeping at her feet. Where was Flowey? A small panic shot through her and she jumped out of bed. 

“Flowey?” she called. Arial purred, her silver eyes blinking open with curiosity at Frisk’s frantic aura. Frisk searched her room, and it was then she noticed the letter was missing. Icy dread filled her soul and she turned on the light. Frisk searched high and low for the letter, her heart racing.  _ Where is it!? Where is Flowey!?  _ She thought frantically as she slammed drawers open and shut. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she found she couldn’t breath.  _ It’s so hot in here!  _ She lifted her hair off her neck. 

_ —Meow.  _ Frisk glanced at Arial. The shade seemed so calm and indifferent to her panic. Frisk whimpered in helpless distress and the cat merely blinked slowly at her. It was almost like Arial was telling her to calm down. 

"Well… do you know where it is?" Arial blinked again and shot off the bed. Frisk gasped and dashed after the shade as it flew through the hall. It was much like watching a shadow expand in the light. The shade streaked down the stairs and came to a stop in the kitchen. Frisk panted and leaned on the counter. She glanced at the shade, only to find Arial was gone. She blinked and shook it off. 

Frisk glanced around, her brows furrowed in confusion. That's when she saw Flowey, sleeping soundly at the kitchen window. Her face softened and she smiled slightly. A breath of relief escaped her.  _ So there's Flowey… but where's my letter?  _

Her stomach growled and she opened the refrigerator. As soon as she did, she saw the apple pie. She hadn't made apple pie. She grabbed it and looked at the sticky note slapped on top of the Saran wrap.  _ -Took care of it for you kid. Someone out there really cares about you.-  _ her breath hitched in her throat. She bit her lip as a warmth spread through her body.  _ No… he didn't…  _

"Huh…" she glanced past the kitchen and into the living room. Sans was laying there on the couch, completely passed out. She smiled softly and hesitantly approached him. With a nervous breath, she leaned over the couch and gazed at him. What was he trying to do? She didn't understand him at all. She thought she knew cruel men like the back of her hand. They were nice and sweet until they got what they wanted and then their true colors were shown. 

She didn't know Sans's true colors. She really didn't know anything about him besides her fear for him. She looked back down at the note.  _ -Someone really cares about you.-  _ She looked back at him, leaning in as if he were a clue to a greater mystery; as if she only had to look more closely and by sheer will the missing pieces to the puzzle would come together. 

"What do you want?" She whispered. What was she expecting him to do? Explain himself? Maybe. She was owed an explanation to his oddness. Wasn't she? Hadn't he made her life miserable the first month she had stayed with them? And now what? Why did he always do these things to get her so confused? Why hadn't he just delivered the letter when she asked? He was prideful but generous? Cruel but thoughtful? It didn't make any sense. 

When no answer came, she stepped away. She felt an overwhelming mixture of both unyielding gratefulness and warmth but also confusion and frustration. She didn't have time to feel this way. She needed to get ready. With that thought in mind, she marched upstairs to get dressed into her day clothes, shoving thoughts of  _ Sans the Skeleton _ off to the darker parts of her mind. She had no time for him and his  _ games _ . She was a woman on a mission, damn it! 

As she jogged downstairs, she checked the time. Five thirty! She needed to leave now if she wanted to get there on time! Quickly, she woke Flowey. He groaned at the disruption of his sleep, but he wasn't about to argue with Frisk about getting five more minutes. He knew today was her big day. As fast as he could, Flowey climbed on and grew her horns. 

When he was finished, she wrote a note for Papyrus and stuck it onto the fridge.  _ -We're all busy bees now! I'll be back at twelve to complete the chores. Thank you, again!-  _ She didn't know what to say to Sans. She supposed she'd have to bring it up eventually. 

With that, she left the house and made her way to Snowden to begin her first day of work. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


As promised, Charlotte had her uniform waiting for her. It was a small, black, cotton dress accompanied by a white, long-sleeve undershirt and ascot. Charlotte made her coffee while she got changed. As she came back to the office, she made sure to clock in. 

"Good morning, Moxie, did you sleep well last night?" She asked. Frisk pursed her lips as she nursed her mug of coffee in between her lap as they sat in the break room. She hadn't slept well at all last night. That same... _ uneasy  _ dream had crept onto her. She had never had a repeating dream. She couldn't even remember the contents, she just… remembered the feeling. She remembered Damian. There had been a moment of peace halfway through the night, when the dream faded to nothingness. However, it came back with a vengeance. She didn't understand it. 

"Moxie?" Charlotte's voice snapped her back to reality. 

"Oh yes, yes I did," she lied. Charlotte smiled pleasantly at her. 

"Alright! Once you finish with that, would you please help me in the kitchen? I have some guests staying, and I want them to have a nice breakfast. Then when they leave if you could—" 

"—Of course, I'm on it," she said. Charlotte smiled at her and the two women made their way to the kitchen. 

Not much was said. Frisk began to make the batter for pancakes as Charlotte started on some omelettes. She felt that same comradery she felt when she was with Toriel. Just womanly solidarity. She was safe. 

"Where did you learn to cook?" Charlotte asked eventually. Frisk smiled as she gracefully flipped the pancake. She looked back over at Charlotte and bit her lip in thought. 

"My… well, I learned cooking from my papa. I can't really bake though. I can't do cakes, I don't know what it is, but… pastries and desserts just never came to me. I think it's because my papa was so bad he didn't even try to teach me." The two laughed at her admittance of baking failure. 

"I'm not much of a baker myself. That is my sister's realm of expertise. She makes the best cinnamon rolls. They're famous in Snowden," she mused. Frisk chuckled. 

"I've never had one," she admitted. Charlotte gasped with shock at the revelation. 

"You have to try one! I mean… it might send your tiny little body into a diabetic shock  _ but  _ my point still stands," she teased. Frisk giggled and plated the pancakes when she was done with them. They started on bacon, biscuits and gravy and other breakfast items. 

"When you go on break, I'll make sure to get you a cinna-bun from Bon," she said. Frisk nodded curtly as they brought the breakfast to the dining room. The hotel was so homely. The fire in the grand foyer was vibrant and brought life to the place. 

It wasn't long before guests started to trickle out. She recognized the girls. Were those the girls who worked at Grillby's? There was a bunny girl with pure white fur, and all she wore was a low cut crop top and booty shorts. She wasn't the only one either, she also saw the peach bunny that had glared at Frisk when Sans ignored her at the club. Frisk avoided that particular demoness. Thankfully it wasn’t hard because they didn't stick around to enjoy breakfast. 

One man came down, and she recognized him too. She had seen him at the execution, he had been one of the guards to hang Freddie. A big white Pyrenees monster with a bushy black mustache. He helped himself to the breakfast, spared a glance at her and smiled. She quickly looked away and went upstairs to clean the rooms. Who was he? She knew he was in the Royal guard with Sans, Papyrus and Doug.  _ Best not to pry.  _

It struck her that the only business that must've graced poor Charlotte's hotel was sex work. That disgusting club used this as an unofficial brothel! Her stomach rolled at the thought as she went to the janitorial closet to get cleaning supplies. It looked like she would finally be on the other side of these jobs.  _ Jesus, I don't know if I can do this… no I can. I have to. Besides… Charlotte is so kind, and she was so kind to hire me.  _

"Flowey," she murmured. Flowey had been asleep at her side and she would rather like his company at that moment. She needed anything to get those dark memories out of her mind. He blinked awake and sighed. 

"How's work going so far?" He asked. Frisk sighed and shook her head as she cracked open the now vacant hotel room. It was a mess. 

"I could use a friend to get me through it," she admitted. Flowey nodded in understanding. He thought if anything to change the subject as she stripped the bed. 

"Did you like the pie?" He asked. Frisk clenched her jaw at the question. She didn't want a reminder of the thing Sans had done for her. It would just put her in a worse mood. 

"I haven't eaten it yet… I was going to save it for my lunch break," said Frisk matter of factly. Flowey nodded. 

"She makes some of the best pies…" he murmured. Frisk glanced at him as she sprayed the mattress down. She quickly moved to clear the clutter off the floor. 

"Is there… Did you know her?" She asked finally. The question had nagged at the back of her mind quite often anytime he said something cryptic about Toriel or Asgore. 

"Um… I used to work in the… I worked in the Palace as a gardener," he said. She nodded slowly. There was something in his voice that didn't sound quite convinced with the story he told.  _ He's lying to me…  _ She didn't push it. Frisk merely nodded. 

"A gardener… I guess it fits," she said with a chuckle. Flowey sighed and nodded. He didn't sound quite as amused as she feigned to be. 

"Yeah…" he murmured. 

Eventually, she got through the rooms that needed cleaning. It was a grueling task, but by then she was used to it. Not only had she been Damian's little housewife, but she had also cleaned for the brothers. This truly was nothing compared to the Herculean lists Papyrus would give her. She always finished those on time. 

Her lunch break came and she had her pie. It was much better than the first pie she had from Toriel. She found it enduring. However, every time she looked at the pie she remembered Sans's note and her sour mood grew worse. A shame that the sweet memory of Toriel was spoiled by Sans the Skeleton. Did he have to ruin everything? 

Charlotte brought her a cinnamon roll and Frisk wrapped it in Saran wrap so she wouldn't eat too many sugary sweets. Thankfully Charlotte wasn't offended by the move. She herself had said it would give her a diabetic coma. The women talked more about the mundane things in their lives. Charlotte bragged about her children and how much she loved them. 

Frisk learned that she had three kids. Of course, she already knew that because of the family photo Charlotte had showed her, but now she could actually hear about them. She loved listening to Charlotte brag and complain about her family. It took the weight of the skeleton brothers and Damian off her shoulders. In their time with each other Frisk learned the names and the attitudes of each child. 

Charlotte had a daughter, Lola, who was five years old. She also had two sons, one was a teenager, Archie, the other around six, Nigel. The oldest brother watched his younger siblings when their mother was working at the hotel. 

"Archie's in a boxing team. He loves boxing but… I don't know. I hope he doesn't go into the big leagues," she said as they sat in the break room. Frisk furrowed her brow. Here was another thing she didn't know about the underground.  _ It must be dangerous.  _

"Is he looking to get into the big leagues?" She asked. Charlotte nibbled her buck teeth compulsively as she thought. 

"I really hope not. Those boxing tournaments can get deadly… and I know he's getting older and everyday he gets stronger but… I don't know. I don't think he'd survive in the professional rings," she said. Frisk's eyes widened.  _ They fight to the death?  _

"You keep him away from that then. I wouldn't want you to get through any more losses," she said. Charlotte smiled sadly at her. 

"I'm just trying to be a good mom. He took Charlie's death the hardest. I think he's becoming more and more of a thrill seeker. I'm just glad he sticks around to help me with his siblings," she said. Frisk nodded with understanding. 

"You have a husband right? Or at least… you did before he," she gestured to her face as a way to signal the supposed scar that  _ Moxie  _ had under the mask. Frisk grunted and nodded. 

"Damian," she said. Charlotte frowned at her, nothing but pity and concern in her voice. 

"I don't want you to be in danger. If you ever feel like those Skeletons are too… scary or if they ever hurt you, I would be happy to take you in, hun," she said. Frisk's eyes welled up and she pursed her lips. The generosity that Charlotte offered her was much appreciated.  _ The skeletons have gotten better with me. I haven't been hurt since that day.  _

"Thank you Charlotte, but… they really aren't that bad," she said. Charlotte's scrunched her nose and nodded. 

"My point still stands. You're always welcome to stay with me and Bon," she said. Frisk's heart melted and she nodded. 

"Of course," she murmured. She knew that would never be possible. She was a human. Besides, if the bunnies ever tried to hide her, Sans and Papyrus would find out soon enough and do their worst to get her back. Her heart sank at the knowledge that she was once again just a tool for people. Her determination was a blessing and a curse. 

Hours of work passed and Frisk was finally off of work at noon. As she slipped past the door, she bumped into the bartender from that shitty club Sans had dragged her into. He smirked down at her. 

"Hello darling," he crooned down at her. A wave of panic filled her. Sans wasn't here to stick up for her, what if he tried to hurt her? 

She stammered and squeezed past him before taking off down the street. She could still feel his eyes on her. A shudder went down her spine as she finally came to a stop at the edge of the quaint little village. She was dreading returning home. She still had the chores she needed to do for the brothers on her to-do list. Not to mention the inevitable conversation she'd have to have with Sans.  _ Maybe we don't have to talk about it. I don't want to talk about it. I don't think Sans wants to talk about it. Better to leave it in the past. He was probably drunk anyway.  _ With that thought, she trudged forward, readying herself for the work ahead of her. 

⁂

Frisk was exhausted. She lay sprawled on the couch, the throw blanket covering her sleeping body. Flowey was back in her room, he was also exhausted. It had been a long day. 

Through the sleepy cloud of subconscious, she heard a throat clear and heavy footfalls enter the living room. She murmured as a hand came to her shoulder and she rolled over. A snicker. 

"Kid," whispered the familiar, but faint voice of Sans. She groaned, her brow furrowed with stubborn sleepiness. He chuckled and leaned over the couch. 

"Just move over," he said with a soft laugh. Frisk groaned and rolled up out of his way. She blinked hard and stretched groggily. Sans came to sit on the couch and he turned on the TV. 

"How was… how was work?" He asked as he surfed the channels. Frisk glanced at him and narrowed her eyes. She yawned and shook her head. Where was Papyrus? Maybe he got held up in town. 

"It was good. It was good… Who's that… there was this white dog man. He had this bushy, black mustache. He was there with this white bunny…" she murmured as Sans sighed and turned the TV off. When everything was Mettaton, nothing was interesting. __

He glanced at her with piqued curiosity at her inquiry and she licked her lip and looked away. She couldn't stand being under his scrutiny. What was he trying to discover? 

"Was he? Huh… shit. Well, I mean I guess everyone saw that coming," he grumbled. Frisk shot him a puzzled look. What was he even doing? He was sitting next to her and acting like they were friends. They were  _ not  _ friends. Feeling a tad repulsed, she jerked up from the couch and grabbed the blanket, a heavy sigh exploding off her lips. Sans watched her as she folded it up and hung it over the back of the couch. Her face was screwed up into a harsh frown, her eyes narrowed in deep thought. 

"Jesus what is your problem?" Scoffed Sans. She ran a hand through her hair and fixed the pillows, trying to ignore the way his question made her feel.  _ Bastard.  _ The question was honestly so absurd she let a bark of laughter out.  __

"I just don't… I don't understand you. I don't  _ get  _ you. What do you want?" She snapped.  _ Shit, where did that… fuck.  _ Her inner dialogue grew more panicked as he glared at her. 

"What are you talkin' about, kid?" He asked.  _ The fucking… fucking  _ kid.  _ Is he joking!?  _

"I don't understand how you can be so cruel and… tch. What are you trying to do? I'm sick of being toyed with—"

"—Jesus  _ Christ—"  _

"—No. You don't get to do this to me. I won't let myself be fucked around with by people like you. Just tell me what you want!" She gasped. Her anger and frustration at him… at Damian had finally boiled to a head. Sans shook his head with dismay at her behavior. 

"Listen I know you're still mad about what I did—"

"—Still mad!?" She scoffed and shook her head. Sans groaned and stood up. The two glared at each other before Frisk stormed away and up the stairs to hide in her room. 

"Kid!" He groaned and followed her up the stairs. Sans stopped her before she could slam the door in his face and she wrestled his hand off her shoulder. She didn't know where the surge of fury and aggression came from. She was exhausted. She had dealt with his bullshit for a month and then some more. It was about time she finally snapped at him. But what would the consequences be? Sure he had been rather docile as of late… but would he stay that way? 

"Don't fucking…" she trailed off breathlessly when those black sockets caught her gaze. 

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?" He asked. She let out a wry laughter.  _ God he's such a fucking prick. Just like everyone else. Just like Damian. Just like Claude. The fucker.  _

"What are you going to do? Hurt me again? Drown me again? I know you can if you wanted to. I bet you could take anything you wanted if you wanted to. Well I can take it. I've taken it my whole life," she spat. He rolled his eyes. 

"Jesus you're so dramatic," he accused. Her eyes widened in dismay at him and she scoffed. 

" _ I'm dramatic? _ Last I checked I didn't throw a fit over—" 

"—Don't you fucking dare. God, you're infuriating. What do you want from  _ me?  _ Ever since then I've felt shitty and I've been trying to make things better. I delivered your letter," he pointed out. Frisk laughed. 

"Do you want a pat on the back?" She asked mockingly. He growled at her. It would’ve been easy to hit her, she was after all being extremely rude, but he clenched his fist. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't give her anymore excuses to invade his mind and make him feel shitty and sorry for her. She crawled into his mind too much, he didn't want to give her any more reasons too. 

"You're just like everyone else. You're cruel and mean and you hurt people because it makes you feel so God damn powerful. You're a dime a dozen and I've dealt with every single one. There's always a motive. So what is yours?" She asked. Sans threw his head back in frustration, his hands covering his eyes. 

"You're so God damn self-righteous. Oh, here comes Frisk! She's gonna save us all. She's the angel," he growled. Frisk ran a stressed hand through her hair. She started this, God damnit, she was going to finish it too. 

"I never… I never said that," she said, "I don't… I just want to be safe. I just don't want to be hurt anymore," she said, her voice cracking as passionate tears welled in her eyes. Sans's ever present grin softened and that same guilt that seemed to always weigh in his soul tugged once more. Shit, what was he doing? 

"No I'm not, I'm not," she murmured as tears fell down her cheeks. She was  _ not  _ going to cry in front of him. Sans sighed and ran his hand over his skull. 

"Shit," he murmured. She glared at him. 

"I just want to know… why you're, well, why you're doing… every one has a game. I'm just sick of being a pawn," she said through shaking breaths. Sans clenched his jaw and paced away from her. He glanced back at her and grimaced. She was confused, scared and she didn't understand him at all. He had never been confronted with the shit he had pulled before she walked into his life. It stung him. It was like a slap to the face. He realized now what his actions must've looked like to her. The guy that tortured her and made her life miserable was all of the sudden being nice? Of course she'd think he had ulterior motives. 

_ You're such an asshole _ . He wasn't one to apologise though. He'd be damned if she'd get the best of him. Even though she  _ was _ damnit!  _ God… how could someone still be so fuckin perfect in a God damn fight?  _ He was alarmed at himself. He didn't know how to make this right. 

She stopped a fight between him and Papyrus. She had spared Doug's life, and she had saved the Crazed Queen of the Underworld. The least he could do was not treat her like shit. Besides, Toriel had made him promise to look after her. He hadn't done a very good job up until that point, but… there was something about Frisk that he just couldn't shake off. 

"You know what the old woman told me last night?" When she didn't answer, he sighed and took it as a signal to continue. 

"She told me that you had saved her life, that you had saved her from herself… do what you will with that knowledge." Frisk glanced at him. What were they doing? If she had done this with Damian he would've beat her for stepping out of line. She had expected the same thing from Sans. She could've taken it too. She would've fought every second, of course, but she knew she could take the pain. She was a survivor… but then the damn Skeleton had to say something like that. He was one big contradicting puzzle. 

They shared a long, heavy gaze before Sans growled under his breath and turned away. Frisk leaned against the wall and watched him disappear into the sanctity of his room.  _ Maybe I was a little harsh on him… no fuck that. He deserved to be put in his place.  _ She thought. Still, some part of her wished she hadn't snapped, that they had talked to each other the way they had that one morning. As she collapsed onto her bed, she recalled the pleasant softness of their morning conversation. Conversation about literature, dreams, humanity, immortality… Frisk just couldn't bring herself to trust anyone like him. She couldn't bring herself to trust. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So a lot happens! I hope you guys enjoyed this longer chapter. And you will find it's a common theme amongst this story where just when things get really good, something bad is sprinkled in and keeps our leads apart. ;) ;) 
> 
> Up Next: Take a trip down memory lane with Frisk... 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying WDYW! I certainly enjoy writing it! If you want to show the love, a comment is always accepted. I also would love fanart, I'll hang it on my wall like a proud parent. Love you guys! Xoxo


	19. Memories

**A/N: Before we get into this chapter, I wanted to give a shout out to[tiocpi (washi) ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/washi/pseuds/tiocpi)! She is super supportive and she helped beta read this chapter. She has a story of her own, **

**[Blood and Marrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22889362/chapters/54709756) **

**It's super good, and I encourage you guys to give her some love!**

**Now without further ado, Chapter 19~~~**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Memories 

* * *

_ Frisk walked through the house. There was something wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It was as if every time she turned her head a certain way the beautiful and lavish decorations and red paint were replaced with black matter oozing out of the ceiling.  _

_ Frisk thought nothing of it as she moved through the space, cleaning. She watched as Sans walked upstairs. But… was he walking or was he… just moving? There was something that called for her to follow him, but just as she took a step toward the stairs, her body grew slow and heavy.  _

"Frisk, can you come in here?"  _ Papyrus called from his office. Frisk hesitated. Sans was staring down at her. She shrugged at him, he shrugged back and she turned away to the office.  _

_ As she opened the door, it became glaringly obvious that it wasn't Papyrus's office. Papyrus was there, but there were photos of her, some of her in a wedding dress, but the man standing beside her was scratched out. Redacted. There was a familiar golden globe sitting in the corner. She knew it was filled with alcohol, but Papyrus didn't drink. This wasn't Papyrus's office. _

"You needed to see me?"  _ She asked. He nodded and sat down. She couldn't open her eyes then.  _

"You're getting more bold, Frisk, you need to be put in your place."  _ The voice of Damian wove in and out of Papyrus's voice.  _

"Are you going to be the one to do that?"  _ She whispered. Her eyes flickered open. Damian was sitting in the armchair. Papyrus's bones were strewn across the floor. She paid no mind to it, as if it didn't matter at all. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. Damian stood up and cupped her face.  _

"If you run, I'll chase you,"  _ he murmured. He was about to kiss her. _

_ She was in the woods. She could hear the howls of the hellhounds. They were after her. She took off running into the night. Zigzagging through the woods. Her breaths for air were strangled. It was as if she was being suffocated. She  _ screamed.  _ Someone shoved her from behind. She fell. She  _ screamed.  _ Damian dragged her off the ground and held a gun to her head.  _

"Where's your determination now?"  _ A gun shot. She was on the Murder Dock. Her soul was seeping from her body in thick red smoke. He tossed her down into hell, and she watched him as she  _ fell _.  _

  
  


⁂

Frisk and Sans went through great lengths to avoid each other the next day. It wasn't hard. Papyrus paid no mind to it, Frisk didn't even think he noticed, too absorbed in himself to realize the seething tension between his older brother and the woman in his house. She found out that the reason he had been absent during the argument was because he had been called into Snowden to deal with a shoplifter.

Another slow day passed. She walked to work. She cleaned rooms. She smiled and laughed and gossiped with Charlotte. She read up on her history. She learned more about the Purge. She learned that the Tieflings had been almost eradicated because of their similarities with humans. The ones that were left were turned into servants and slaves as a way of symbolizing monsters rising to overtake the humans. It was sick, but it was good to know the history of Moxie Valentine. 

That night that  _ dream _ haunted her.

The next morning as she got ready for work, Papyrus ranted to her about the Snowden locals. She found that she rather liked being around Papyrus. Even though he was a narcissistic and violent person, there was something so obviously good in his soul and no matter how much he stifled it in public, it shined through to her no matter what. Maybe there was something good in Sans too… she just didn't give him as much of a chance due to his bullshit. 

"I told the little perp that if he wanted to steal again I would have my dogs chop off his legs, then he'd be nothing but a head and a torso.  _ Nyah-hah-hah! _ How does one even steal without arms?" He said as they drank their coffee. Frisk snorted with laughter. 

"Papyrus that's horrible," she said. Papyrus shook her off. 

"It gets the job done. Needless to say, I haven't gotten any complaints about the little dung heap since," he said. She giggled and shook her head with half-hearted disapproval. She knew that if Papyrus so wanted to he could deal great pain to people… just like Sans. 

She glanced back when she felt eyes on her.  _ Speak of the devil. _ Sans was leaning against the kitchen wall. When their eyes met he grunted. 

"Paps, you should let her get to work now or she's going to be late," he said. Papyrus sighed and nodded. Frisk, who was already good to go, gave a curt sigh and vacated the kitchen. 

"Glad to know you two are getting along so well. Maybe you should get married," he growled as she traipsed to the mudroom. She scowled at the suggestion. 

"Sans stop being such a lout," spat Papyrus. Sans snarled at his younger brother. She rolled her eyes at the two and left for work. 

"I just can't believe him, Flowey. I don't know what to think about him," she complained as she traipsed through the woods. Flowey snorted awake and glanced at her. 

"Who?" He asked. Frisk shook her head and clenched her jaw. Their fight was still grating on her brain. She had been expecting him to hurt her and he hadn't even touched her, except to stop her from walking off. Damian or Claude would have hurt her.  _ Don't start sympathizing with him just because he refrained himself from hitting you, Frisk. _ What had he tried to tell her when he told her about Toriel? She just didn't know why he was doing this. He had said that he didn't want to feel shitty anymore. Maybe that was it. Maybe he didn't want anything from her. Didn't change the fact he was still selfish. Still… he wasn't… being violent. He was actively… no. She didn't even want to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

She had known too many men that had been sweet, then turned on her the next second. Men like Damian. Oh Damian… even when she was finally free from his grasp, he still found a way to ruin her life and make her miserable. 

"He is definitely a rubix cube," murmured Flowey. Frisk eyed him. 

"Did you go with him? The night he delivered the letter?" She asked. Flowey pursed his lips and nodded. She scoffed. 

"What did he say? What did you talk about?" She asked. There was a dark  _ caw  _ of a crow and Frisk looked up.  _ What the..?  _ She didn't know crows existed in the Underground. She watched as the crow stared down at her before fluttering off the branch in a spasm of black feathers.  _ Odd…  _

"We talked about a lot of things. Not a lot, he usually cut me off before we got anywhere emotional. I can tell that you get under his… I would say skin but he doesn't have any," he said with a mischievous smirk. As if her charms were a weapon and she was slowly killing him. Frisk furrowed her brow. 

"What do you mean by that?" She asked. Flowey glanced at her and gave her a smug smirk. 

"He tried so hard not to be enchanted by you and it was all in vain… I think you confuse him as much as he confuses you," he said. She frowned and looked away. Was it just her or was this road getting longer? Another crow cawed. She crossed her arms. 

"It's getting cold… and you really think that? Maybe you're right… did you hear our fight?" She asked. Flowey nodded slowly. 

"Of course I did," he chuckled and added, "You really put him in his place. I was a little worried he would hurt you but…" he trailed off. Frisk nodded and chuckled wryly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, you would think so," she said.  _ Ugh, finally, the bridge!  _

⁂

  
  


"Damian I can't do this anymore,"  _ Frisk tossed a newspaper down on his desk. The front headline spelled out the terror and anger that she felt in her heart.  _

"Valeska Family Back In Business. New Witch Determined to Terrorize Ebbot… Frisk… this is good. People are scared of you. No one will get in our way,"  _ he purred. She narrowed her eyes at him.  _

"Did you hear me? I said I can't do this anymore. This isn't who I am."  _ Damian shot her an annoyed look and stood up from his chair. He meandered towards his globe flask and lifted the lid.  _

"Would you stop being melodramatic? You're a fine asset to my business,  _ mia amore," she felt a shudder run down her spine and she shook her head. An asset? She was his  _ wife.  _ She wasn't an asset.  _

"Your business… right. This wasn't what I wanted when we came here. I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to… I wanted to leave behind Europe and my past, this isn't… you sell heroin and crack. You… you  _ murder _ people. You steal their souls and use Black Magic!"  _ She said, shaking her head with dismay. Damian clenched his jaw. _

"No one in my family gets a ticket out of this life just because they move to America. You're part of my family now,"  _ he said. She pursed her lips, a lump growing in her throat.  _

"Am I? That's not what your father said,"  _ she snapped. His eyes went dark and he glared at her.  _

"Don't talk about my father,"  _ said Damian, his voice dripping with malice. Frisk scoffed and shook her head.  _

"I know why you do this. Ever since I came into your life he has tossed you aside. I'm so sorry that I have wedged myself between you and your family, I am  _ so sorry," she spat, tears springing into her eyes.  _

"God damnit Frisk, shut up! I've had enough of this conversation. Get out of my office," _ he ordered. She scowled at him. She knew she was right. Ever since she had killed that man and absorbed his soul, she had felt repulsed with herself. She itched with self-loathing. She wanted out. She wanted out so badly. Damian had her trapped. She was not going to let him control her. She was in  _ America  _ now! She was free!  _

"No. You listen to me Damian Alessandro Valeska! You will not use me anymore in your schemes. Leave me out of your family's blood money, I will have no more of it on my hands,"  _ she spat. He threw his head back with laughter.  _

"You think you can just run away from this? Frisk… I love you—"

"—No. You don't. You love my soul. You love my determination. You don't love me, how could you, when your father shuns me and shuns you  _ because _ of me."  _ She jumped with shock when he slammed his drink onto the floor, shards of glass shattering everywhere. He snarled at her.  _

"I will listen to no more of your crazy bullshit! Shut your whore mouth and get the  _ fuck _ out of my office before I make you,"  _ he hollered. Frisk stumbled back against the door, her eyes wide. He called her a whore… Her soul burned in her chest, red light cast against the furniture and their faces as she glared at him.  _

"You… how dare you,"  _ she whispered. Damian growled.  _

"Oh please—"

"—How  _ dare  _ you!"  _ She screamed. Damian lunged at her and shoved her. She grabbed his neck in a split reaction. _

"Get out!"  _ He shouted. She shoved him back, and he retaliated instantly with a backhand across her face. She stumbled to her knees at the force. Her face was stinging with pain and her eyes welled up and spilled over with tears.  _

"Frisk…"  _ Her eyes were wide and her lungs were racked with tears. He stood over her, his fist clenched. Her mind was racing. It wasn't the first time, but it always shocked her. Her lungs heaved for air as broken sobs were strangled out of her throat. When her wits finally returned to her she jerked her head to look at him in bewilderment. He was glaring down at her coolly. She let out a screaming cry and climbed back to her feet. Her soul burned. She couldn't take this anymore.  _

"You! I _hate you!" She screamed_ _before flying out of the office. He didn't chase her. She raced from the house, slamming the door behind her. She took the car and screeched out from the driveway. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to wound him. It had been a good idea at the time as she sobbed over the steering wheel. His father called her a whore. Damian called her a whore._

_ As she came to a screeching stop she screamed with rage and hit her steering wheel. A loud honk filled the night and she hiccupped from her uncontrollable crying.  _

"Connard! S'il veut une pute, il en aura une. Putain De connard"  _ she screamed into the nothingness as she drove recklessly. In the haste and hysterics, she made the worst mistake of her life. She knew one of the men in Damian's gang fancied her. She would hurt Damian. Someone needed to. There would be hell to pay but she was going to go down in a blazing fire.  _

  
  


⁂

"Hey, it's saying there's movement beyond the fence," said Doug as he and Sans sat in their patrol room. Sans rolled his eyes. 

"Do you wanna check?" He asked, a hint of anger in his voice. Doug eyed him and pulled a cigar from his pocket. He shrugged as he lit it. 

"I don't think it's wor'f it. It's way past the fence. It's probably just a Gyftrot or some'fin, they don't count do they? Not like someone's crossed the border," he said. Sans shrugged absent-mindedly. He was not in it today. He glanced at Doug with a hint of annoyance. 

"Yeah. Sure," he grunted. Doug shot him a confused look, but Sans waved off his unspoken question. 

"Tired. I'm fuckin' tired," he grumbled. Doug chuckled and nodded. 

"I'm sure… how's uh, how's Frisk?"  _ Oh God, don't fucking bring her up, you dick.  _ He glanced at Doug and sighed in exasperation. 

"Fuck if I know. I'm gonna take a nap. Actually, why don't you pay her a visit? She's chummy with everyone ain't she? Fuck it, bring her some flowers. Careful though, she might question your motives," He spat. Doug rose a brow. 

"Oi, what's your problem?" He asked, his amber eyes narrowed with new scrutiny at his hot-headed friend. Sans shot him a withering look. 

"I don't have a problem. I'm tired. Leave me alone for five seconds so I can get some damn shut-eye," he ordered as he hid his head in the crook of his elbow and hunched over the counter. Doug scowled at him. 

⁂

"Where were you last night?"  _ Frisk froze as Damian cornered her in the kitchen.  _

"What?"  _ She asked, trying to play dumb. Her mind was much clearer. The guilt of cheating on her husband with his trusted associate… of using his admiration for her to her advantage when she was in hysterics was starting to weigh on her. Then Damian… she didn't want to do this again.  _

"Where were you? Were you with Leo? I know he's had his eye on you… damn bastard,"  _ he spat. Frisk turned to look at him and she sighed. Ever since the night they had that explosive argument, she had been terrified of him. Granted she had been scared of him the moment he had made her kill a man.  _

" _ Oh mon Dieu _ . I stayed with Tiana, Damian."  _ She lied. Tiana had been the wife of one of his closer partners, and in turn Frisk had grown close with the woman. It wasn't true though… she had slept with Leo. She had wanted to  _ hurt  _ Damian like he hurt her.  _

"Are you lying to me?"  _ He asked. Frisk scoffed and shook her head. She slipped past him and made her way to the living room.  _

"Why would I do that?"  _ She flinched when he slammed his hand on the counter.  _

"Damn it Frisk! I know you weren't at Tiana's house because I called her asking for you and she told me you weren't there. You were with Leo, just tell me the truth!"  _ He snarled, stomping over to her. She darted away from him, her heart thudding in her ears. Her face tingled with the phantom sensation of his slap.  _

"I was not! Even if I was, why would I tell you? After everything you've put me through,"  _ She retorted. Damian scowled at her.  _

"Jesus Christ, Frisk, do not turn this on me. I am not the bad guy—"

"—I never said you were! But you're starting to become one,"  _ she said. Damian bared his teeth and grabbed her by the wrist.  _

"Oh fuck you! All I ask is for a little loyalty. I knew marrying you would be a mistake… betraying me is in your fucking blood isn't?"  _ He snarled, waving her arm in the air. She gasped and tried to wrench her limb out from his grip.  _

"How dare you bring my past up.  _ Let go of me! _ That has nothing to do… I was  _ not  _ with Leo! I was away from you, I was scared! You scared me!"  _ She cried as she jerked her hand away from him. He groaned and clenched his fists.  _

"I know you're lying. You know you're lying. No one else is here, so who are you trying to fool?"  _ He asked coolly, looking around the room as if trying to spot another person. Frisk whimpered in her exasperation and ran a hand through her short hair.  _

" _ No one!" She cried. Damian eyed her, his lip curling in disgust. He shook his head and looked at her as if she had murdered someone.  _

"My father was right about you. You're a conniving  _ whore  _ who has no place in the Valeska  _ familia!  _ I should've listened to him and  _ left  _ you in Sicily to rot!"  _ He spat. A lump grew in her throat at the accusation. She hid her pain with a taut laugh and paced away from him.  _

"Oh do  _ not  _ bring your father into this. Do not bring up your  _ familia.  _ You act like you're a bunch of saints.  _ You kill people.  _ I didn't ask for this life! I just wanted to be happy!"  _ She said, her voice cracking with the strain of her emotions.  _

"What do you think I'm trying to do!?"  _ Screamed Damian as he threw his hands in the air. Frisk laughed wryly at him and shook her head.  _

"Do  _ not  _ try and convince me that what you're doing is for  _ us _ to have a better life. Do  _ not  _ try to tell me that bullshit! I know why you do it. It's for yourself. It's so you can prove to your father that you are worthy of him. I'm  _ so sorry  _ I caused all your fucking problems!"  _ She spat. The ghosts of their past arguments came to haunt them. It always boiled down to the same thing.  _

"Shut your fucking mouth,"  _ he ordered. There was no way she was going to grovel before him now.  _

"You don't even love me anymore. I'm just a tool for you!"  _ She said. Another ghost to haunt them. Her lack of trust. Her insecurities. She was right to have them. She  _ was  _ just a tool for Damian.  _

"Oh I'm the one using you? You used  _ me  _ to get out of Europe and elevate yourself from the gutter. You came from nothing. If it weren't for me, you'd be  _ nothing." Frisk's eyes widened at his statement. So that was how he really thought of her? She felt nothing but hatred for him.  _

"The more I stay with you and your hatred, the more I wish you  _ had _ left me in Sicily! And no, Damian, I loved you, and I think you loved me, but you chose your father's business over me. You turned away from me,"  _ said Frisk.  _

"I thought I loved you too, and then you ran around on me!"  _ Damian retorted. He kicked the wall and shouted with fury.  _

"You just use me for my determination. That's all I am to you anymore! Just some tool to get power!" 

"You can't even admit that you're wrong!"  _ The two were caught in a screaming match. Frisk's voice was going sore and she stumbled away from him when he approached. She wasn't going to be his pawn anymore.  _

"You have hurt me in so many ways. I am done with you! I am leaving, Damian. You will  _ never  _ see me again!"  _ She screamed. Damian laughed at her.  _

"You're not getting away from me that easily! If you run I will chase you!"  _ he snarled. She shook her head and stuck her middle finger up at him. He shouted her name as she stormed out from the house. Her suitcase was already packed and in the car. She would stay the night in a motel and then in the morning she would make a break for it. When she was miles away from this hellish city, she would file divorce papers. Maybe she'd snitch and turn them all into the police. She would ruin them. Some would call her crazy, but for once, she had never thought more clearly.  _

_ However, Leo knew where she was. Damian had him prove his loyalty that night.  _

⁂

  
  


"Frisk, you're good to go," said Charlotte around noon. Frisk smiled and nodded to her. She went to the bathroom to change and then made her way out. 

"Bye!" She called. Charlotte waved to her and Frisk stepped out into the cold. She did not want to go home. She knew what waited for her. Chores and heavy tension. She couldn't deal with that. 

"Sorry Papyrus," she murmured to herself. It was Friday anyway. He would be making lasagna, he didn't need her to cook for him. She decided to go to the Library. She needed to return her books anyway. She had finished them all and they would be due soon. Might as well be a good patron. 

As she approached the stairway the two lions jumped to life. 

"Halt! Who dares enter the chamber of knowledge!?" Snarled the first lion. Frisk rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood for this. 

"It's me, Moxie. Are we really going to do this again? I just need to return some books," she groaned. The second lion eyed her before sighing. 

"Can we at least tell you one riddle?" He asked. Frisk narrowed her eyes before with a heavy sigh she nodded and gestured for them to hit her with their best shot. Their stoney faces lit up. 

_ "What can run, but never walks; has a mouth, but never talks; has a head, but never weeps; has a bed, but never sleeps?"  _ Growled the first one. Frisk blinked slowly as she thought up the answer. She could've sworn she had read this in a book. A small smirk lifted her lips and she hummed in triumph as the answer came to her. 

"A river," she said. The lions grinned at each other and went to sit on their steeps. 

"She is very good," he said. She giggled and raced up the stairs when she was sure they had let her past. The Sphinx librarian glanced up at her as she entered. A sly smile as she approached the desk graced the librarian's usually hard face. 

"How did you enjoy the history lesson?" She asked. Frisk smiled and dug the books out from her bag. 

"I enjoyed it very much," she said as she plopped them down on the desk. She watched as the librarian stamped the books and tossed them in the bin. 

"Anything we can interest you in for today?" She asked. Frisk glanced around. 

"I think I'll have a look around," she said. The librarian nodded coolly at her and Frisk trekked forward. She watched an owl swoop over the bookshelves and return one of her books to its proper place. She smiled in wonder. 

"Let's see… got any recommendations for me?" She asked Flowey quietly. Flowey glanced up at her and smiled. 

"Do you like mystery?" He asked. Frisk's eyes lit up and she nodded. 

"That's a great idea! Everyone could use a good who-dunnit in their lives," she said as she wandered through the shelves. She picked up a large black book with an eye on it. 

"What They See in the Night… this looks interesting," she said. Flowey nodded. 

"Yeah, not too shabby," he said. Frisk took it to a table and pulled up a chair. She settled herself down and began to read. Flowey had not expected her to stay, but he understood her dispositions. 

Hours passed. She was engrossed in the story, but exhausted. She ended up dozing off, head resting against the desk as her book lay ajar in her half open hand. 

"Ms. Valentine… I hate to wake you, but the library is closing… you'll need to leave… did you want to take that with you?" Asked the librarian. Frisk groaned groggily as she sat up. She looked down at the book with glassy eyes. Had she really fallen asleep? 

"Um no, that's fine," she murmured. She didn't protest when the librarian plucked it from her hands and rose it in the air. An owl swooped down and snatched it from her grasp. Frisk yawned and got up from the table. It was dark… 

"Um, thanks," she said. The librarian nodded to her and Frisk made her way out. Flowey was asleep in her coat. As she stepped into the crisp air, she realized just how late she had stayed out. It was dark! A touch of fear shot through her. Maybe going to the library was a bad idea.  _ I'm sure it'll be fine. I know the way back… what about the dogs? No… they know me as Moxie now… it should be fine… I'll be fine.  _

She wished that Flowey was still awake to offer her the comfort of conversation, but she didn't want to disturb him. The night in Snowden was much different from the day. She felt the alarming sensation that she was not safe. 

Many of the shops were closed. The only recreational place open was Grillby's. A girl and guy burst out, laughing hysterically, leaning against each other as they made their way down the street. 

A bear monster lumbered past her. As she walked past, his head turned and he whistled. 

"Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave," he rumbled. Her breath hitched nervously and she picked her pace up. The monster chuckled and continued on his way.  _ Shit, what was I thinking!? Staying out late? What am I an idiot now? Is Sans turning me into an idiot?  _ Frisk skipped into a light jog until she made it to the edge of the town. The last light of Snowden twinkled above her as the dark wood loomed before her. This was going to be a nightmare. She could already hear Papyrus yelling at her. 

As she trekked deeper into the woods, the wind began to pick up and she took in a deep breath. It was getting colder. She pulled her coat closer to her and crossed her arms. Her teeth chattered as snow began to fall.  _ God I'm such an idiot.  _ She thought bitterly as she trudged through the snow. 

What time was it? She had lost all sense of time in those ancient books and halls. The wind swirled around her, clawing at her. As if trying to push her back to town. She trudged on. She gasped as a large crow cawed just above her. The wind was driving ice into her eyes. She couldn't see for shit. Especially not with the mask on. She looked around, trying to find her bearings. Hadn't she taken this road many times to get to Snowden? She couldn't see anything. Now would've been a good time to have Sans's powers. 

She scoffed to herself as she looked for the road. When she found where she was supposed to turn down she smiled in relief and kicked herself into a jog.  _ I can't see shit with this mask on.  _ She thought. She took a risky move and ripped it off. She stuffed it in her bag and ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her face. 

Soon it would be over and she would be back in the warm, dry farmhouse. God she couldn't wait for her weekend off. She was going to sleep in. She chuckled wryly as she realized she sounded like Sans. 

Another crow cawed and fluttered off the branch. She flinched and continued down the road. Bad omens. She really shouldn't have stayed that late in Snowden. Had she really been dreading the presence of Sans that much?  _ You know what? I'm not going to let him get on my nerves like this anymore. I'm going to kill that bastard with kindness from now on.  _

She squinted through the ice when she saw a porch light in the distance.  _ Finally.  _ She thought. She started forward… 

_ Click.  _

Frisk froze when she heard the cock of a pistol behind her. _No…_ She recognized the sound.

**_"I found you, mia amore,"_ ** uttered a dreadfully familiar voice. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ...See ya Saturday! 
> 
> Up Next: Frisk's nightmare come to life and his name is Damian Alessandro Valeska. 
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying this story! Please don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos to show your appreciation! Love you guys! Xoxo


	20. Waking Nightmare

**A/N: Hello! Just wanted to share some art work! Also, if you have any fanart maybe?? I'd love to display it!**

**[Damian character concept](https://photos.app.goo.gl/sk9owemWryQCbtNm8) **

**Now without further ado, enjoy the last chapter/finale, if you will, of Part One.**

* * *

Chapter 20: Waking Nightmare

* * *

_Do you ever feel… like you're being hunted? Like no matter what you do...or how far you run, someone will always find you?_

  
  


Frisk's breath shook as she realized that her nightmares had come to life. Her body filled with icy dread. Her heart thundered in her ears. The wind began to die down and she could see the basilisk coop. She could see the porch. Just ahead of her was salvation, but she knew if she moved one muscle, she'd be dead. _This can't be happening… how is he here? How did he get past the dogs? How did he get past the border?_ Her mind raced with frantic, unspoken questions. 

"You have no idea the trouble you've caused me," growled Damian from behind her, his icy voice cutting through the heavy silence. She whimpered and began to shake. 

"Do you have any idea just how much work it took to come down here… hey, turn around. Look me in the eyes, Frisk," he ordered.

Frisk closed her eyes. She had gotten too comfortable. She had assumed she was safe in this Underworld. She assumed she, as Moxie Valentine, was safe to wander about. She had underestimated just how determined her husband was when he wanted something. It was a surprise he didn't have the same powers as she did. 

She closed her eyes as she accepted reality. This was really happening. He was really here. This wasn't a dream. She was _fucked._ Slowly, she turned to him. The man she once loved. Her eyes came face to face with the nose of his pistol. 

There he was. He looked older somehow. His forehead was lined with rage and stress. His ice-blue eyes piercing hers with malice. He was steady. Cold. Professional. Even without the three piece suit. His jet black hair was peppered with grey. She hoped it was because she had given him hell in the time she was gone. 

His face softened when they met eyes and he lowered his gun, but only to the point where he could shoot her in the leg if she tried to run. It reminded her just how much they despised each other. 

He leaned in to get a good look at her. Her soft face, big brown eyes, short chestnut hair, and pouty lips. There had been a reason he married her. She was a fine catch. Fine catches usually came with trouble. She had caused him a lot of trouble. 

He grabbed the back of her neck and leaned in, pulling her into a tight, loveless, embrace. She stiffened in his arms and whimpered in fear. She could feel his gun pressing against her stomach.

She yelped as he dragged her into the woods, off the road. She struggled against his grip and he flipped her around. He grappled with her arms, his gun pressed to her head. She gasped for air. She barely heard the shatter of a vial over the thunder of her heart beat. She recognized the sound. He had released a soul. He had souls with him. She heard him take in a deep breath. 

Frisk spared a fearful glance behind her as Damian's chest glowed a faint purple, not nearly as bright as Frisk's soul, but noticeable. The veins in his arms went taut. He whispered a silent incantation and glowing, light purple rope wrapped around her arms. She clenched her jaw, tears flooding her eyes. Was there nothing she could do? She let out a sob. 

"Walk," he ordered. Tears rolled down her cheeks. _Wait… Flowey!_ She began to panic. What if Damian saw Flowey? Would he kill him? Would Flowey save her? She didn't want to put Flowey in danger. If Damian had souls with him to consume and use against her, Flowey wouldn't stand a chance! She choked on another sob as she stumbled through the snow. The barrel of his gun pressed against her back. _Think Frisk! Try to think of a plan!_ She was so tired and scared. She was terrified. If she thought that Sans scared her, he was nothing compared to Damian. She looked over her shoulder. There was nothing soft in his eyes. What was he going to do to her? She couldn't think straight. She couldn't _breathe._

"You look like you've been taken care of. The things you must be doing with these demons…only a whore like you could survive in a place like this," he growled, shoving her. She stumbled and tripped. Frisk fell to the ground with a hard thud and Damian leaned down. His soul was still glowing that same lavender tint. _Low hanging fruit_ , she thought bitterly. _Don't say anything to fuel his fire._ She bit her tongue. That didn't stop her pitiful sobs from escaping her lips. He growled and half-heaved, half-dragged her back to her feet. 

There was a blood-chilling howl. _The dogs!_ She thought with a gasp. For a split second, she thought she would be saved, but then realized that she was human. They would rip them both apart! Frisk gave a muffled cry as Damian cupped her mouth and pulled her behind a tree. He shushed her. Frisk's soul began to glow and she could hear the Hellhound in the distance. 

Another howl. She felt the pull on her soul. Damian's grip was tight however. The Hellhound growled. She heard the crunch of snow. Her breath was hot and heavy against Damian's hand and she squeezed her eyes shut. She did not want to be touched by this revolting man. Her skin was crawling with disgust, rage, fear and panic. She listened as the hellhound's heavy breath echoed through the trees before a deeper sonorous howl called to it. The cerberus. The Hellhound stopped in his tracks and ran off the opposite way. 

Her lip curled and she let out a pathetic cry. He shushed her and they waited in silence. When Damian was sure that the coast was clear he dragged her after him. 

"Get a move on. This place is crawling with demons," he spat. Frisk narrowed her eyes at him. She'd been living here for a month and a half. The least he could do was give her the dignity of knowing they were surrounded by Monsters. She scoffed and shook her head. 

"You got something on your mind, _puttana?"_ He spat, walking behind her, gun focused on her head. She swallowed. She was freezing. Her body was shaking. Her mind was running over every scenario. She was sure that he would drag her up to the surface and make an example of her to his men. Or maybe he would lock her away and use her soul to his benefit. He could do so much worse than what she had dealt with for the past month. He had real use for her. She was after all… _an asset._ She looked behind her. _I can't let him take me. I can't go with him quietly._ She eyed him. 

"I asked you a question didn't I?" He spat. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. 

"Why did … why did you come… come down here?" She stammered. The woods grew dark and cramped with the thicket. The wind began to howl and shake the trees. Snow billowed about them. Ice whipped their bodies as they staggered through the forest. Frisk glanced down at her shoulder. Flowey was hiding in her jacket and she knew he was asleep. 

"Well that's a stupid question. What happened to all that fight in you, huh? Too much of a coward now that I have a gun to your head. You always were a coward, Frisk," he growled quietly. He was trying not to alert anyone to their presence. Frisk hung her head, tears streaming down her eyes. They froze at her lashes, the cold pinched her face. 

" _Why did you come down here?_ Isn't sending me to hell enough?" She croaked. Damian threaded his fingers into her hair. He brushed against the wooden horns. 

"Maybe. If you were absolutely worthless. Unfortunately for both of us, you still have something I need, " he hissed. She nodded solemnly. She knew just what that meant. She didn't want to think that. _Think of a plan, God damnit! You_ always _have a plan!_ She screamed at herself but she couldn't think. The magical ropes began to burn and she clenched her teeth. 

"So what's going… what's going to happen… to me?" She said through clenched teeth as she tried to force words out. All her strength vanished. Where had the strong Frisk who stood up to Sans and plotted against Papyrus gone? Now, with a gun pressed to her head, burning ropes wrapped around her wrists and Damian... _fucking Damian_ right behind her… she felt powerless. She had done everything to live for herself… only for him to come and snatch her away. She'd never be free. She'd always be a _fucking_ slave. 

"Everything's always about you isn't it? …I've had some time to clear my head, Frisk. I realize now that throwing you down here had been a poor idea. No. I'm taking you back home and I'm going to teach you some _manners."_ Frisk clenched her jaw to stifle the sob, but the choked wail couldn't be stopped by her faltering will. She stumbled, fuck she was so cold. 

"Frisk?" Both Frisk and Damian froze when they heard Flowey's voice. _No...no...go back to...fuck!_

"Where? Why aren't we? Frisk!?" Flowey jumped up. Damian held his gun up as Flowey whirled around. They came face to face and Flowey's eyes widened in shock. Another human...with a weapon and a malicious—it didn't take him long to figure out what was going on. Frisk felt her heart leap as she stumbled away. 

Flowey hissed and shot at him with his bullets. He struck Damian in the stomach and Damian stumbled back to hide behind a tree. 

"RUN!" screamed Flowey. Frisk didn't need to be told twice. She took off into the night. 

The purple ropes that gripped her arms tightened and pulled her back. She screamed as she went down. Her body was dragged through the snow. Flowey shot a thin vine out to grab hold of a tree trunk. 

Damian came out from cover, his soul glowing white as purple light shot through his veins and a green, glass-like veil surrounded him. Frisk let out another wail as he whipped a knife out from his belt and slashed through Flowey's vine. Flowey yelped in pain and reeled back. 

"Get out of here!" Screamed Frisk to her one true friend. Flowey looked at her with panicked eyes. His horrid mouth twisted into a garish snarl and he shot five more pellets at Damian. They ricocheted off from the glowing green shield. 

Flowey yelped when Frisk grabbed him and ripped him off of her. 

"Go! Go get help!" She cried as Damian shot the ground in an effort to hit the flower. 

"I'm not leaving you!" Cried Flowey. Frisk cried as Damian clasped her hair and yanked her back. He broke another vile and breathed in another soul. A few whispers and his chest began to glow brighter. Light blue light shot through the veins in his arms and he raised his fingers. He chanted a spell and just as Flowey reeled at him much like a Cobra ready to pounce, Damian trapped him in a frozen state. Frisk shrieked as Damian gripped her neck. She struggled against him until the butt of his gun crashed against her skull. Her body slumped as she went into shock. Pain flooded her body and she didn't fight as he dragged her into his arms and flung her over his shoulder. The world spun as her head rolled back. 

⁂

  
  


"Sans, where is the tiny human? She was supposed to be back by noon… it's ten o'clock and she still hasn't come home," shouted Papyrus from downstairs. He had just pulled his lasagna out from the oven and his worry for the human had finally broke through his subconscious. Sans groaned from his room and came downstairs. 

"I have no fuckin' clue, boss. Maybe she finally got tired of us and ran away. Didn't I tell you she was manipulating you?" He spat. Papyrus glared at his older brother. With an explosive sigh, he slammed the oven door shut. 

"Enough! Something is wrong. I feel it in my bones," growled Papyrus. Sans eyed him. Although now that he thought about it… where _was_ Frisk? An icy dread filled his body despite his shallow pettiness. 

"What do you mean, something is wrong?" He asked, his voice taking on a more serious note at the thought something bad might actually be going on. Papyrus glanced out the window. There was a horrible storm outside. Wind beat down on the house, making it groan under the pressure. 

"Well, if you would pay attention… a snowstorm hit. She might be caught out in the woods," he said, and Sans was shocked at the tinge of worry in his brother's voice. Maybe even a little jealous, since when had Papyrus cared about him? Sans rolled his eyes.

She was always causing some sort of fuss, wasn't she? But, the more he thought of it, the more his soul began to weigh heavy. What if she died? What if… what if she was found out? He thought about what might be happening to her right now. Her cries for help going unheard. Tears streaming from those big brown eyes that never failed to warm the room with a simple glance. He didn't know why he cared so much. Or why he was actually starting to panic. 

"She might be caught in town due to the storm. I will check with Charlotte. Hopefully she'll be here by the time I come back. Are you going to do anything useful or will you continue being worthless?" Growled Papyrus as he tossed off his apron and grabbed his jacket. 

"Oh would you shut up… um, fuck, ok. Shit. I'll do a sweep of the woods and make sure she didn't… fuck, ok," he murmured as he jogged upstairs. 

_Promise me you'll protect that child._

The old woman's plea echoed in his mind as he jerked his jacket on. He was an awful guardian. Hopefully Papyrus would find her. Hopefully. He was alarmed at the fact that he was actually worried. Where _was_ she? Was this because of him? Oh God, that had to be it. It was their fight, it had angered her so much she must've been taking any measures she could to stay out. Even though this was a bit ridiculous. Sure they had their differences but… she wasn't that stupid. Was she? No she wasn't. She was clever… she was _conniving._ Had he infuriated her so much that she lost all of her wits and simply fled? He couldn't help but feel guilty. It _was_ because of him. _God, you asshole, you drove her off._ He jogged back down to the foyer and as he opened the door a billow of snow drove into his face. 

Papyrus had already set off. It was just him. With that, he slammed the door shut behind him and half-walked, half-jogged to the road. 

"Shit kid. _Shit._ Why did you have to do this now? Couldn't you have run away in nicer weather? This is ridiculous," he growled as he went into the night. 

⁂

Red orange smoke formed in the town and Papyrus practically lunged through. Tonight wasn't a night to do things the _right_ way. Everything about tonight was a nightmare. This couldn't be happening! He had a human in his grasp, if she was to be discovered it would be the end of him! He had come much too far to have it all crumble to the ground, starting with his head. Then there was the glaring fact that this wasn't just any human, this was Frisk! 

As much as he tried to disguise it, he was extremely fond of the Human. She was a sweet girl who did good work! He couldn't let the king take another soul… he couldn't let the king reign his tyranny over him and his brother any longer. 

"Where is Fr—MOXIE!?" He snarled as he threw the hotel doors open, his eyes wide at his almost catastrophic slip up. Charlotte raced out from her office. 

"Moxie? She… isn't she with you? Doesn't she live with you?" She asked. Papyrus stomped up the front desk. 

"If she was with me, I wouldn't be here, now would I? Are you hiding her?" He asked, cocking an accusing brow bone at her. Charlotte gasped and quickly shook her head to deny the accusation. 

"No sir! No lieutenant! I would never!" She cried. Papyrus sneered and looked around. 

"When did she leave?" He asked. Charlotte gulped and glanced at the clock sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. 

"She left at noon… like always… why did… oh my God, did she not come home?" She asked, her voice rising in pitch as she realized just _what_ was going on. She too knew how dangerous Snowden could be; but _Moxie_ was associated with the brothers. No one Charlotte knew would ever dare try to take a stand against the brothers. 

"Is there any other place she would frequent?" He asked. Charlotte furrowed her brow as she recounted the many friendly conversations she and her employee would have together. 

"She… likes to go to the library," she said curtly. Papyrus paced about the foyer. He shot a significant look at Charlotte before giving a curt nod and making a break for the door. 

He turned down the street and looked about frantically. The few deplorable monsters that scattered the mostly empty streets watched after the lieutenant with a hint of curiosity and a healthy dose of fear. He never used his powers so freely. 

He arrived at the library. The two lions roared to life and blocked his way. 

"The library is closed, try again tomorrow," purred the first lion. Papyrus groaned with frustration. She must have left. He turned to the lions. Were they smart enough to answer his questions? They sure did like asking them. 

"You two. Did you happen to see my tiefling housekeeper whilst guarding the hallowed halls of knowledge?" He asked. The first lion purred with pleasure at Papyrus's stilted politeness. 

"Of course we did," said the second lion. The first one rumbled with laughter and nodded to his fellow gargoyle. 

"She is very good at riddles—"

"—I don't care! When did she leave?" He asked with growing frustration. _Frisk could be dead by now for Pete's sake!_

"Hm… I think she left around eight o'clock," said the first lion matter of factly. Papyrus groaned. That was two hours ago! He knew the human wasn't an idiot. If it had been late, she had probably started for the house. He hadn't seen her whilst on his way into town to look for her though. If he had been panicking before, he was definitely panicking now. He couldn't lose her!

What if the dogs had gotten to her? A thousand frantic thoughts raced through his mind. This was a nightmare! 

⁂

Flowey screamed into the night when the spell wore off. His eyes widened as he realized the two humans were gone! 

"Frisk!" He called. He called her name three more times until he couldn't catch his breath. He had lost her! He had sworn he would stay by her side and make sure she was safe. He couldn't even do that. He was a failure. He had failed Chara and now… and now he had failed Frisk. 

No. No. No he couldn't do that. Frisk wouldn't just give up. Frisk was determined, she… she had told him to get help. _Sans!_ He felt his mood sink at the notion he would have to try and convince Sans to help him. No. No, Sans _would_ help. Flowey knew there was something in him that cared about Frisk, no matter how much of an asshole he was to her. He'd have a much better chance to fight that crazed warlock with Sans. 

Flowey sank his roots into the ground and stretched them out into the mostly frozen soil. He pushed through, cutting through the dirt with the last bit of his magic as he connected to the roots of the other plants. A network of roots. He just needed to concentrate. 

He grew still as the night screamed around him. There was a vibration over one of his roots further away. Flowey jumped with excitement and burrowed into the ground. 

It wasn't long until he found Sans wandering about the woods. He jumped out in front of him and shouted. Sans gasped and staggered back from the monstrous weed. 

"Sans! It's me, Flowey!" He cried. Sans's eyes widened. What was this little bastard doing out alone? Frisk would never separate from him… Shit. This wasn't a runaway. 

"What happened to Frisk, where is she?" He growled. Flowey narrowed his beady black eyes. He looked back and pursed his seedy lips. 

"She was abducted! I tried… I tried to protect her, I tried to fight him, but he had magic and… he stopped me and took her!" He rambled hysterically. Sans shook his head. His panic rose. _She was kidnapped? Shit!_

"Who is _he!?_ Who took her?" He growled. He would show no mercy when he found this fucker. Flowey turned back over to look into the night. 

"I think… it was a human, and… I think it was her husband," he murmured, his breath coming short. Sans's eyes widened. Her husband? Sans clenched his jaw and he started forward. 

"Wait! I can find her, I have a way to find her and you can follow me," said Flowey. Sans glanced down at him before growling. 

"Fine! She better… _fuck!_ Show me the way—what are we waiting for!?" He snarled. Flowey nodded and sent his mind down the roots. He searched and searched… finally… he found them. His eyes shot open and he looked up at Sans. 

"Follow me," ordered Flowey. 

  
  
  


⁂

  
  


Frisk's breath came in shallow gasps for air. Damian had found a small cave that would offer shelter from the storm. The magic had faded and the ropes bound around her arms had dissipated. She could tell Damian was tired, and the use of the souls was exhausting him. That didn't change the fact that he had a gun up to her. It didn't change the fact she couldn't think straight. 

The only things she could think about were the gruesome ways Damian would torment and torture her. If Flowey was ok, if he had gotten help… and if that help would come for her in time. _I'd rather be in a staring match with Sans._ She thought as she could do nothing but cry. _Wait… how did he get past the Ruins?_

Damian lit a cigarette and took a drag. A puff of smoke floated out from his lips and he eyed her. 

"How did you… get past the Ruins?" She asked as she watched Damian start a fire. Damian was silent for a long time as he struck a match and lit a case of dry tinder. He put several dry sticks in the fire and blew life into the flames. Finally, he spared her another glance. Slowly, he turned and rummaged through his pack. He yanked out two pieces of paper. 

She paled when she recognized the papers and the handwriting etched on the other side. 

_"_ _It's been awhile,_

_Hello again! I told you I would write to you, didn't I? I hope you have been well. I know it must be hard to be alone in the Ruins._

_I don't know what I was expecting when I was thrown into Hell, but a beautiful wintery forest was not one of them. There are some amazing places so full of life. You may not know what I am talking about, but the town Snowden is so quaint. It reminds me of the little villages in Germany. The politics however are not so pretty._

_The people I'm hiding with at the moment disguise me as a tiefling. My name is Moxie now. I have so many questions I can't just ask about the history of the Underground. People would probably see through the facade if I was ignorant in all the holidays and customs. I'll probably have to make a_ lot _of trips to the library. I have made some friends, surprisingly. It sounds very childish, but truly, it is good to have allies. There's of course the monsters that are hiding me, but I consider them more acquaintances. They're both rather cruel and unusual in their own ways, but sometimes they can be weirdly nice. Some people are filled with contradictions. There were two women who were very sweet, and I feel like they have a lot in common with me. There is a monster named Doug who found out about my humanity, he almost killed me, but then I saved his life and he basically pledged his loyalty to me. It was really weird._

_I have a theory. Most people down here are actually kind and fair, and it's the people in authority who hurt others and enforce cruel laws. I'm sure given the opportunity, and shown kindness and mercy, this place wouldn't be so hellish. I'm not the only one who thinks so. There was a comedian who shared these sentiments and they killed him. I know it's very complicated. Enough about that though. Politics? Never a good topic,"_ he read aloud.

Her eyes widened at the sickening realization. No. _No!_

"Should I continue? It goes on…I'll continue. 

_You told me that I would save the Underground. I don't think that's true. I don't think one person can save an entire nation of people. I will admit, your words do give me a warm feeling. Like maybe I have worth… maybe I don't have to be used for bad anymore. My whole life I have felt worthless… but then you said that to me. I just can't get it out of my head. I guess I've taken it to heart._

_Love,_

_Frisk…_

That's so sweet. You think you're going to save the demons?" Mused Damian. Frisk's hands shook with a mixture of rage and fear. Toriel. He had _killed_ Toriel! Then he had the audacity to steal her letter. Frisk clenched her jaw, squeezing it tight until her temples gave a sharp stab of pain. She felt her soul burn in her body and a scream threatened to spill out. He couldn't get away with this. He could hurt her. He could hurt her all he wanted, she could take it. But he had hurt her friend. Toriel meant a lot to her. Toriel had understood her. They had confided in each other. 

"You killed her…" she murmured, her voice cracking with a slice of rage. Damian eyed her, a smirk playing on his lips.

"She told me… before she died… she told me that she wouldn't let me near you. That I was the true monster and you would be safe from me. She didn't last long against me," he said, gesturing to the crystalline vials of souls on his belt. There were only three left. His gun was lying beside him as he held up the letter. 

"Oh, the fire is dying," he murmured. Frisk watched with growing fury as he slid the letter into the fire. She wasn't going to let him get away with this. Her entire body swelled with furious heat and her soul goaded her. Her terrified paralysis lifted and she found an unstoppable wave of rage flood her. 

"FUCKER!" She screamed. Her soul flashed red as she pounced across the fire. Her fist crashed across his face and he flew back. Frisk straddled him, shouting with fury as she struck him with a barrage of punches after punch. Damian kicked her in the stomach and shoved her back. He staggered up to his feet and reached for his belt. From her place on the ground, she kicked him in the knee. Damian snarled as he staggered to the side. Frisk rolled over and grabbed the gun. He pulled her up off the ground and the two grappled for the weapon. They stumbled out from the cover of the cave mouth. Frisk squeezed the trigger and a gun shot rang through the silent wood. 

She was not going to lose to him! 

"You fucking bitch!" He snapped. Another gunshot. He ripped the gun out of her hand and shoved her to the ground. He grabbed her hair and jerked her head up. 

"I think we should start our lessons on etiquette _now."_ He snarled, his hand shaking with rage as he held the gun up to her head. She screamed. She almost heard him pull the trigger. Something froze.

A blue light spilled over her. Something natural. Not the dark magic that Damian had. Damian was frozen in place, and he could only wheeze with confusion. Deep in the dark… she saw a familiar red flare. 

"Sans!" She gasped. The skeleton stepped out into the clearing, his hand outstretched. Feeling a new sense of power, Frisk shoved herself away from Damian and stumbled back. She yanked the vials of souls out from his belt. 

He watched in fury as Frisk threw them to the ground. The souls billowed out from the shattered glass… then they blew away in the wind and snow. 

"Frisk!" Cried Flowey. Damian clenched his jaw as he tried to fight Sans's magic. Frisk raced away from Damian, tears streaming down her face. Sans held his arm out to her.

"Are you ok?" Asked Sans as she embraced him, her entire body shaking as she sobbed uncontrollably. Their petty argument forgotten. 

"Is this one of your _friends?"_ Growled Damian through a clenched jaw. Sans bared his fangs at the man before him. Frisk stepped in front of him and snarled.

"Yes. Yes he is. And you don't stand one fucking chance against him, _mia amore,"_ she spat venomously.

Sans glanced down at her, taken aback by her answer. _What?_ He thought in shock. Sans's soul grew warm in a way he never thought he could. It was just enough of a distraction for Damian to raise his gun and squeeze the trigger. 

Frisk yelped and staggered as the bullet shot into her abdomen. Sans caught her, his soul wrenching with panic. No this couldn't be happening! Everything was happening too fast! 

"S-Sans—" he shushed her. Flowey wrapped his vines around her and whimpered. 

"You thought you could betray me and get away scot-free? No one wins against me. I am Damian Alessandro Valeska. And you're just a whore," spat Damian as he staggered away from Sans. Frisk sputtered. The pain flooding her and the nausea as her stomach rolled. Her soul was burning with determination, fighting to keep her alive… but all she could see was the blistering white snow swirling around her. The world spun. She couldn't breath. 

Sans glared at Damian, his fists clenching. Damian cocked his gun and held it up. 

"Don't call her that," he growled. Damian snarled, but just before he could pull the trigger, a translucent, blue bone shot through him. Damian shouted and tried to jerk back. The bone suddenly cracked, turning blanch white. Blood trickled out from Damian's stomach and Sans slowly walked up to him. He ran a hand through Damian's jet black hair and grinned wickedly. 

He forced Damian to look into his eyes. This was the man that had terrorized Frisk for so long, who she had compared _him_ to. That thought made him enraged. _I’m not letting this happen to her again, I’m not like you. I’m not._ Fear flooded Damian as the message seemed to translate through the monstrous skeleton’s black glare. For the first time in a long time, he realized just how mortal he was. He looked from Frisk to Sans. 

"Frisk may be an angel… but I'm not," he whispered. Sans realized just how much the notion of someone hurting Frisk truly made him furious. Reminded him of just how sickened he was with himself. 

Damian's eyes widened as he realized that he was dead. His reign of terror on Frisk De La Noir was over. The light dimmed in his eyes and he groaned. His soul began to seep out from his chest. 

Sans stepped back and glanced at Frisk. He looked back. The soul was a cloud of black. It had a stench like cigarette smoke and ash. They watched as the black smoke fell to the ground, until another gust of wind blew it into nothingness. 

Sans blinked and shook away the disgust and anger. He turned his attention back to Frisk. She choked and groaned. His grin softened and he jogged over to her. 

"Is… is he gone?" She whimpered. Sans clenched his jaw and picked her up. She looked so pitiful. Tears staining her face, pain flooding her shaking body. Sans didn't think he had seen anyone more… delicate and beautiful, even whilst wounded. _Focus._

Flowey hooked onto him and dragged himself out from the ground. Sans gazed down at her. He had her. He glanced back at the bullet wound. Blood soaked through her shirt. 

"He's gone, Frisk," he whispered. Her lip curled in another sob and she leaned her head against his chest. Sans ran a hand through her hair. She nodded softly and gripped his jacket. He realized just how good her touch made him feel. He never wanted her to be hurt again. Not like this, and especially not by him. He didn't need to make promises to an old woman to protect her. He realized he already wanted to protect her. She had gotten to him, just like Flowey had said she had. 

"Good," said Frisk. She was losing consciousness, or at least going into a pain induced shock. He needed to get her home. Red mist surrounded them. He spared one last look at Damian's corpse and he growled. 

"Let's go home, kid," he said, before stepping through the mist. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

_End of Part One_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that marks the end of Part One! Part Two is currently in construction, but until it is completely finished, there will be a hold on updates. Big thank you to tiocpi_washi for beta reading! 
> 
> Just so you know, I'm currently writing chapter 30. 
> 
> If you liked this story, please let me know in the comments, leave a kudo, or bookmark to show your appreciation. Reader support keeps writers going. Love you all and until next time!


	21. Healing

Part Two: Masks

* * *

Chapter Twenty One: Healing

* * *

Healing was painful. 

⁂

  
  


_ "Oh my God! What happened to her!?"  _

_ "Just shut up Papyrus! I'm… where are mom's tools?"  _

_ "Sans, who did this?"  _

_ "Papyrus!"  _

_ "Oh my God, is she going to be ok? I can heal her!" _

_ "That so? Alright Flowey, you have to help me stop the bleeding… shit, ok I can do this."  _

_ "Sans…"  _

_ "Hold on kid… Papyrus! Tools!" _

_ "The lab, where else would they be!?"  _

_ "... Ok… ok, shit ok, Flowey, stabilize her." _

⁂

Healing was very painful.

⁂

_ "Sans..?" _

_ "Shhh, kid, shut up,"  _

_ "It's ok... I'll be fine," _

_ "Of course you'll be fine. Who said you wouldn't be fine? Not me."  _

_ "Sans—" _

_ "—What?" _

_ "Thank you… thank you,"  _

_ "…Alright, you're stable."  _

_ "So… he's really dead?"  _

_ "...You gonna keep asking the same question?... Yes, he's dead. You're safe."  _

_ "Am I?"  _

_ "...Yes." _

_ "Promise?" _

_ "... You know how I feel about making promises… but… yes, I promise."  _

_ "Thank you."  _

⁂

Healing was  _ extremely  _ painful. 

⁂

_ “Ok Frisk, are you ready?” _

_ “Just do it Flowey.” _

_ “Ok… here goes, I’m sorry.” _

“Merde!”

_ “That’s all I can do…” _

_ “Ugh… it’s fine… I’ll be fine… thank you.” _

⁂

Healing took time. 

⁂

_ “Um… yes, Ms. Charlotte, hello, this is Lieutenant Papyrus speaking… We found Moxie and she has been seriously injured. She’ll be out for awhile. That better not be a problem.”  _

_ “Is she ok? What happened to her!?”  _

_ “That is none of your concern!”  _

_ “Wait, Lieutenant!—” _

⁂

  
  


Frisk crept out from her room in the dead of night. She winced at the dull pain in her stomach as she made her way to the bathroom. 

"Ah, _ merde…"  _ she murmured as she flipped the light switch on. She had never felt more fatigued. She sank into the bathtub, still clothed in one of Toriel's sweaters. A lump grew in her throat when she thought of the old woman. Slowly, she pulled the sweater off and tossed it across the floor. Next she peeled off her underwear and bra. She stared down at her bandages. One more healing session with Flowey and she'd be able to take these off for good. She'd better. It had been a week since Damian had attacked her. It was about time she got back on her feet. She hated feeling helpless. 

The more she moped around in pain, the more she cried and dwelled on fear and depression. And other things. Like Toriel… and Sans. She needed to work. She needed to be busy. 

She unwrapped the bandages and dropped them onto the floor. For now, she needed a shower. Frisk gently grazed the bruised scar on her abs. Her body was littered with scattered bruises and scars. The lacerations from the dogs were faint white lines on her back, and now her pink wound with marbled purples and greens. Flowey was doing his best but the poor guy got tired. 

Frisk reached forward and turned on the faucet. Water cascaded down upon her in a spike of cold. She flinched and turned it over to hot. She leaned back and sighed as the water began to warm. 

She hugged her knees to her chest and let out a shaking breath. She felt so alone. Toriel… Toriel was dead. She hadn't even… for some reason a wave of guilt crashed onto her. Someone else had died because of her. She hadn't told Flowey about Toriel either. She hadn't really talked about what had happened when Damian kidnapped her. She didn't know if she had completely accepted his death. She still had nightmares about him. Nightmares of the pain. There was… one thing different however. 

Sans. Sans was different. He had saved her life. he had swept her away from her personal demon, he had stabilized her and stitched the wounds up. Where he had learned to do that, she wasn't even about to ask but… his gentleness… his panic over her mortality. She didn't know why but she couldn't let it go. Especially not after the things he had said to her. How he had promised her she would be safe. 

As she let the water fall over her, she sniffed and wiped her eyes. Time would tell. She glanced at the bathroom door. Would he be awake?

Frisk clenched her jaw and scrubbed her body and hair from the grime of life. She hit the water off when she was rubbed pink and she towelled herself off. Quickly, she tossed her bra and panties into the hamper and pulled her sweater back on over her body. 

As she stepped out into the pitch black hallway, she spared a glance at Sans's room. Would he be awake? She didn't know why she was curious… or why she wanted him. All she could think about was how caring he'd been as of late…it was so out of character… but what did she know about him, really? She didn't know if she wanted to talk to Flowey either. 

Flowey was a good friend… but he was just so young at heart. There was just something that drew Frisk to Sans. They had a strange understanding. The conversation they had that one morning… about books and music… about immortality and determination… about the  _ Purge _ … something in her craved that. 

Her feet seemed to move involuntarily and Frisk drifted towards his room. It wasn't locked. Dead silence.  _ What are you doing? Just go to bed…  _ She disregarded the warning in her head and she cracked the door open. 

She peaked in; he wasn't in his bed. His room was a complete wreck. Clothes were everywhere… several dishes. She ignored it and glanced up. The window was wide open, his curtains blowing in the slight breeze. Frisk bit her lip. Maybe she should leave… 

With bated breaths, she swallowed her fear and slipped in, her soul burning with that fiery resolve. Ok… now what? Her heart thundered in her chest. Maybe this was a mistake. Oh God, she was so stupid!  _ Turn around, go back while you still can!  _

"Sans..?" She whispered as she picked through the room and poked her head out from the window. There he was… sitting on the roof. He jerked at the sound of her voice and snapped to attention. 

"What the—Frisk? What are… what the fuck are you doin'?" He asked as he shifted with flustered nervousness. She swallowed the lump in her throat and she looked behind her. 

"I needed someone to talk to," she whispered. Sans's grin softened and he eyed her curiously. She was such a puzzle. He glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. 

"What about your weed?" He asked a bit insensitively. She pursed her lips. Really, what had she been expecting? She was honestly surprised she had gotten this far without him flying into a rage. 

"I wanted to talk to you," she murmured. Sans gazed at her and finally, shifted over to make room for her. She bit her lip to hide a soft smile and she crawled up to meet him. 

Frisk cautiously sat next to him, sparing a nervous glance at him. Sans didn't look at her, he just stared up at the sky and closed his eyes. They sat in comfortable silence, Frisk glancing at him from the corner of her eye every other second. She shivered and crossed her arms as they sat. When Sans made no move to break the dreamlike silence that had fallen over them, she cleared her throat. 

"I used to love him, you know… I used to dream about starting a family and I had even picked out names for our kids. Claire if she was a girl and… Roman for a boy. I never foresaw the blood and… the mob… or the hate," she whispered, her breath shaking as tears pricked her lashes. She shivered in the cold and Sans glanced down at her. His eyelights rolled over her and he sighed. 

"That's usually what happens… Claire's a pretty name," he said quietly. She nodded and leaned back against the wall. A soft smile graced her lips. 

"He didn't like it," she said. Sans glanced down at her and bared his teeth. 

"Well his opinion doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" He asked. She giggled softly.  _ This is nice…  _ The two shared a lingering gaze and Sans shifted closer to her. She leaned away almost subconsciously.

"I still don't know what to think of you…" she murmured. He nodded knowingly and watched her as she trembled in the cold. 

"Not many people do… I can be a real villain sometimes, can't I?" He said with a dark chuckle. She hummed and smirked up at him. 

"Perhaps… you should probably be careful… someone might get the idea that you actually care," she whispered. His eyelights once more fell over her little body before he glanced back at her narrowed eyes. 

"They might at that… you cold?" He asked. She bit her lip and nodded, a small, embarrassed blush rising to her cheeks. He slid out from his jacket and plopped it onto her. She bit the inside of her cheek as she stared up at him. 

"Thanks… I… You remember the letter I wrote?" She asked, her voice cracking only slightly as tears welled in her eyes once more at the reminder of Toriel. He furrowed his brow bone. 

"How could I forget?" He asked with a bit of wry humor laced in his voice. She nodded slowly as she prepared herself to tell him what had become of Toriel. 

"Well… he… Damian… he killed her. And then he took the letter I wrote to her… and he read it to me just to rub it in. And then he burned it," she croaked as she fought past the tears streaming down her cheeks. Sans's ever steady grin faltered only slightly and he shot her a concerned look. He watched her, they didn't speak for a good long while. He didn't know what else to say to her. He didn't know how to comfort her. He merely nodded as he took in the information. That bastard had murdered the old lady… his eye lights flickered out. What messed up shit had he done to Frisk? 

"That's the asshole who you compare me to… right?" He asked finally. Frisk brushed her tears away and melted into his jacket. It was warm… she felt safe for the first time in a long time. Who could've guessed it was whilst sitting with one of the most terrifying men she had ever known? 

"Do you blame me?" She asked. Sans grit his teeth. He hated that answer. 

"No," he admitted. Frisk hummed at the reply and she closed her eyes, letting a subtle smirk lift the corners of her lips.

"Hm, well… I'll let you know if that changes," she said with a small smile. Sans grinned down at her. She really knew what to say to cut into his marrow and rile up his soul. He shook his head and gazed up at the sky. He didn't know why, but sitting here with Frisk put him at peace… there was just something complete about it. 

"I never realized just how beautiful the sky down here is… how is it like that, aren't we underground?" She mused. Sans closed his eyes and smiled softly. 

"Mhm… it's all artificial. A marriage of science and magic. Like those stars… not real. They're wishing stones. They're supposed to relay messages, times and dates… but everyone just kind of likes looking at them. Makes the nights down here not so bad, you know?" He explained. She leaned her head against his shoulder. 

"That's beautiful…" her voice trailed off as a haze of sleepiness hit her. Sans glanced back at her. She was leaning against him… she was so small… so fragile, so delicate… gorgeous. She had wanted to talk to  _ him.  _ God knows he didn't deserve her presence, especially after the shit he had done… but here she was. 

He gazed down at her. Her pouty lips were ajar, hair wet and stuck to her cheeks and neck. He imagined for a second what would happen if he kissed her…  _ What is wrong with you? Are you listening to yourself!? Oh my God.  _

Sans clenched his jaw, eyes going black as he panicked over the course his thoughts had taken. That couldn't happen. One, she was a human. Two, he hadn't allowed himself to feel the way she was making him feel in a long time. That was a weakness. Besides… she was so much better than him. It was the truth in its simplest form.  _ Here's what would happen if you kissed her. She would freak out and run. She wouldn't talk to you… she might even try to leave…  _ He didn't know why but that thought scared him the most. He was alarmed by the idea that losing her would be crushing. 

He had to stop this. This was… He couldn't handle this. Too many thoughts were racing through his head. She was so close… and her smile, holy shit. She was smiling at him, and this time she wasn't trying to hide it. No. He had to stop thinking like this. She was…  _ Stop. Stop!  _

"Kid," he shook her almost a bit too harshly and she jolted awake. 

"Huh?" She murmured sleepily. Sans pulled his jacket off of her. 

"I think you should get to bed. You seem pretty tired," he said. She gazed at him with half-lidded eyes before she finally hummed and wiped her face. 

"You're right… thanks for listening to me…" she murmured as she made her way back to the window. Sans nodded hastily. 

"Yeah, yeah, now get out of here," he groaned. She rolled her eyes. She didn't know why he always got so defensive with her, maybe he was too prideful. Either way… he had listened to her… she smiled softly as she slowly crept back into the hallway. She hadn't really known what to expect… but that had not been it. That hadn't been it at all… 

  
  


⁂

  
  


There was a knock on the door. That was new. Frisk glanced up at Papyrus as they had their morning coffee. 

"Who could that be?" He murmured as he set his cup of joe aside and made his way to the front door. No one ever visited the Skeleton brothers. Why would they? Frisk shrank into herself, her eyes shifting across the kitchen. 

"We should probably hide," murmured Flowey. She nodded hastily and quickly jogged upstairs as Papyrus looked through the window. She shoved past Sans as he lumbered down and he grunted at the move. 

"Watch it," he grumbled, but she paid no mind to him. Frisk rummaged through her room and fastened her mask firmly to her face. Flowey grew her tiefling horns and she sighed in relief. Now…who was here? 

She crept downstairs and listened in on the conversation. Two women… no three… a man… three children… or at least… She recognized four of the voices that were arguing with Papyrus. 

"Where is she!? She hasn't been at work in a week!" Cried Charlotte. She sounded… scared and angry. 

"Who are you to demand these answers from me!?" Snapped back Papyrus. 

"We don't care how powerful you and your brother are, if you hurt Moxie, we're going to—"  _ Bonnie?  _

"—Do what? Moxie is fine!" He growled with dismay. Doug drew his swords and pointed them at his higher up in a bold show of loyalty. 

"Where is she? I swear skeleton, if you've laid a finga' on her I will fight to the dea'f," he snarled. 

"Ms. Valentine hasn't been at the library, she always comes to the library, she's one of the only patrons who can get past the lions, please— Doug put the swords away— Just tell us she's safe." Was that… the Librarian? Sans jogged up the stairs and grabbed her wrist. 

"You've got a fanfare gathered out there," he whispered with an amused grin. Frisk raced down. 

"You've got quite the nerve to trespass onto my private property and threaten me. I ought to teach you a lesson in respect," growled Papyrus. Frisk shoved past him before he could do anything. 

"Moxie!" Cried Charlotte. She raced forward and embraced her small employee. Frisk wheezed and pushed back. Her stomach ached at the contact. 

"Easy, easy…" she murmured. Underneath her mask she was practically glowing. They had all come… ready to protect her? She was touched. She finally had people who cared on her side. 

"What happened, where have you been?" Asked Charlotte as she backed away. Papyrus lifted his nose at her and sniffed. 

"She's been recovering," he spat as if that were obvious. 

"I was attacked out in the woods on my way home," said Frisk shyly as Papyrus scowled down at her friends. Charlotte glanced back at her family, her eyes wide. 

"Oh my… that's awful, suga'," said Bonnie. Papyrus grunted and nodded curtly. 

"Yes, and we saved her pathetic life, so perhaps a thank you is in order instead of this disrespectful disregard of authority," he spat. Doug bared his teeth, but one look from Papyrus was enough for him to back down. 

"We brought her some stuff," said Doug finally. Frisk grinned at her friend as Bonnie showed off a basket. 

"There's something from all of us…" said Bonnie as she handed the gift basket to Frisk. She couldn't stop herself from smiling. This was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. 

"Who's idea was this?" Grunted Papyrus. Charlotte glanced up at him and put a hand on her oldest son, Archie’s, shoulder. 

"Mine…" she said firmly. Frisk glanced up at Papyrus and then back at her friends. Yes…They were friends. She smiled at the thought. 

"Thank you… this means a lot, you didn't have to do this," she said. Papyrus crossed his arms as he glared at them. She knew what he was thinking.  _ They didn't and they shouldn't have.  _ That thought made her smirk and she hummed in a defiant triumph over him. 

"You've become a part of our community...really the Lions have missed you, you were the only one who engaged with them and were respectful," said the sphinx with a small twinkle in her eye. Frisk smiled softly. She could feel eyes burning at the back of her head. 

"Yes it's all very sweet, now that you've seen her, you had best leave," grumbled Papyrus. Frisk went to hug Charlotte and Bonnie. Doug pulled her into a gentle embrace and she giggled. Those eyes burning on the back of her head grew more intense and she glanced back to see Sans staring at her from inside. When she caught him looking, he quickly glanced innocently away. 

"I'll see you on Monday?" Asked Charlotte. Frisk nodded and waved to Charlotte's children. 

"Yes, of course. I'll be back on my feet by then, thank you," she said. With that the entourage dispersed and Papyrus practically dragged her back inside. 

"I can not believe what just happened. A complete and utter disregard for authority. For what?" Spat Papyrus as Frisk brought the goodies to the kitchen island. Sans chuckled. 

"It was a nice gesture, no big deal," grunted Sans as he came to stand beside Frisk. She glanced at him from under her lashes and fought the soft smile growing on her face. Yes, things had been much more different since he had saved her life. 

"NO BIG DEAL!?" cried Papyrus as he stomped into the kitchen. He glanced out the kitchen window and watched the intruders make their way back to the road. Frisk removed her mask, shook her head and looked through the basket as Sans and Papyrus argued over the respectfulness of the  _ "Frisk Fanclub"  _ as Papyrus put it. 

A cinnamon roll from Bonnie.  _ Aw, sweet. _ A book of riddles from the Librarian…  _ clever…  _ A pack of painkillers and a switchblade knife from Doug.  _ Practical.  _ A kick boxing trading card from Charlotte's oldest son, Archie. Last but not least… a check for her work. She opened it and read the small letter tucked inside the envelope. Not just a check for the week she had worked… but also compensation for the week she had been out. Her eyes welled up and she hugged the check to her.  _ Thank you, Charlotte.  _ She glanced back down at it and smiled as she read the amount.  _ Six-hundred seventy-two gold.  _

What could she do with that? Maybe she could buy herself some new clothes…  _ Maybe some work out stuff, I could use some work out clothes.  _ A good pair of sneakers… maybe some leggings… tank tops. How long had it been since she'd worn a tank top?  _ No… I need underwear. Ugh, I need new bras and panties, that's what I need.  _

She glanced over to see Sans eyeing her. There was something cautious and tender in his look. Her thoughts turned to the moment they had shared on the roof. She wondered what thoughts were running through his mind. 

A whisper of warning echoed in her head. She shouldn't trust him. She shouldn't even begin to trust him… but she couldn't deny they had a strange understanding. Maybe they confused the hell out of each other… but they also understood each other on a fundamental level. A way that she had never really felt with anyone. People were  _ filled  _ with contradictions and Sans and Frisk were no exception. 

With a sly smile, she looked away and grabbed the basket. She glanced over her shoulder as she started out of the kitchen, half expecting Sans to meet her eyes once more, but he had turned away and was rummaging through the fridge. With a curt nod, she carefully jogged upstairs and put those curious thoughts of Sans the Skeleton behind her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm baaaack, and I've come bearing gifts such as FLUFF and more of Sans's emotional ineptitude. 
> 
> Up Next: Neighborhood Gossip teaches Frisk more about the Brothers. 
> 
> I do hope you're enjoying this story! Don't be afraid to comment and leave kudos ~xoxo~


	22. Back to Work

Chapter Twenty-Two: Back to Work 

* * *

Frisk came back to work that Monday. It was rather uneventful. Charlotte was happy to see her and the two gossiped about the goings on of the town. Frisk learned that the dog monster, the one she had seen with the white bunny from Grillby's, was a member of the guard who was currently having an affair with his wife. Both Charlotte and Frisk found the whole act demoralizing. 

"Charlie would've never allowed that kind of degeneracy in his hotel…" murmured Charlotte. Frisk frowned at the mention of Charlotte's late husband. She never really did talk about what happened with him. 

"What happened? What changed?" She asked finally. Charlotte sniffed and leaned over her desk. 

"I don't remember when it started. Grillby… he had always been a little disgusting but things changed when the Purge started. A lot of families were torn apart, a lot of businesses failed. Grillby's was one of the only places at the time that was doing well. When girls started applying to work for him he started having them do favors and… then it became what it is now," she explained. Frisk bit the inside of her cheek and glanced towards the door of the office.

"When Papyrus came into power and learned about what they were doing he tried to shut it down. Shut the whole thing down but I think he underestimated just how much Snowden was built around it, how much it needed it in order to thrive."  _ Sans mentioned that when we went there.  _

"What is uh, what does Sans get up to when he goes there?" She asked. Charlotte scrunched her nose and leaned back in her seat in thought. 

"I couldn't tell you. The thing about Sans is… no one really knows what he gets up to or what he's really like… except maybe you," murmured Charlotte. Frisk glanced up at the coy accusation. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked. Charlotte shrugged and eyed her with curiosity. 

"You live with the brothers… you know what they're like past the facade they put up. Not that who they are on the insides counts for much. It's the actions that make the man," she grunted. Frisk nodded knowingly and the two sighed. The mere notion however, made her remember gentle he'd been with her. She didn't understand him at all, but she wasn't going to deny it was nice. It was really nice. 

"I don't understand Sans any better than you do, in fact, I would say being in the same house with him makes the mystery even worse," she said. Charlotte snorted with laughter. 

"What have they done, why is everyone so afraid of them?" They really didn't seem so bad behind closed doors. There was the torture but that felt like it was ages ago… Frisk couldn't put her finger on it but there had been a shift in the wind of their relationship. 

"Well… they've done a lot of things… I mean, don't you know? It was broadcasted all over the place," she said. Frisk began to panic a bit as her ignorance stared her in the face. 

"I… don't watch TV, I really don't keep up with current events. I was kind of absorbed in my own problems," she explained. Charlotte eyed her skeptically. 

"Right… huh… well, at one point, Sans attacked General Undyne, no one knows why. Just attacked her. She was on her way home, I think, and he was waiting for her. Some people said she had it coming to her, I mean you know she wasn't… she's not the best person, she's the right hand man to the king of all people… But he almost killed her and then… Papyrus stepped in. Next day, Papyrus was lieutenant…do what you will with that knowledge," said Charlotte. They fell into a reflective silence and Frisk could feel her stomach ache at the knowledge. She could never forget just how dangerous Sans or Papyrus were. Why would Sans just outright attack someone? What would drive him to do that?  _ Simple, power. They obviously did that so Papyrus would be in power. Sick… but is that the whole story? Of course it is… don't forget who you're dealing with. I mean, hell, they probably only saved you 'cause you're a human. They need you…  _

Frisk still couldn't shake the feeling that there really was  _ more  _ to the brothers. She couldn't  _ help  _ but remember what had happened that horrid night when Damian had attacked her… and Sans had saved her. He hadn't even tried to take Damian's soul. He had been ridden with anxiety at the state of her health; truly scared she would die. He had promised she would be safe. And then that night on the roof…  _ People are filled with contradictions.  _ It was true. She wasn't a saint either. She had done things she wasn't proud of. 

"Well, I trust cautiously," she murmured. Charlotte nodded thoughtfully at the response before she clicked her tongue and glanced at the clock. 

"Oh, you're good to go, by the way. It's good to see you back on your feet," she said. Frisk smiled and got up from her seat. 

"Yes, thank you… oh and um, thank you really for coming to check up on me. Your gifts were so thoughtful and…they meant a lot," she said. Charlotte gave her a fond smile. 

"Of course. Take care of yourself, hun," she said. Frisk nodded and got her jacket. With that, she left the hotel. 

" 'Ello  _ Moxie!  _ If that is your real name," greeted Doug, saying the last part quietly like a little secret between them. Frisk giggled. 

" _ Bonjour _ Doug" she said. Doug fell into a walk beside her and lit a cigar. 

"Do you have your knife?" He asked. She sucked in through her teeth and shook her head. 

"Totally forgot it. It's on my desk," said Frisk. He chuckled and took a drag of smoke. 

"Ay, well, I suggest carryin' it around. Things get a lit'le dicey durin' the spring," he grunted. The spring. Of course things got  _ dicey _ as Doug put it… that's when the Purge would be. Frisk gulped. 

"Well I think I'll be ok. I do after all, have you on my team, right?" She sang. Doug smiled at the praise and he pat her shoulder. 

"Ay, that ya' do, love," he said. She giggled and took his arm. What was the occasion of his visit? 

"What are you doing in town today?" She asked. Doug shrugged nonchalantly and glanced over his shoulders. 

"We're uh… conductin' a census of sorts." Frisk glanced around. Were the brothers there? Would Doug get in trouble for slacking and talking to her instead? He seemed to read the question on her face and he lowered his ears. 

"Oh no, no, it's fine. I'll walk ya' home, the bro'fa's can very well do this wi'f'out me in their way. Can't count crowds for shit'e, ya know?" He said, referring to his poor vision. Frisk smiled softly and nodded. 

"Well then we best get going so Papyrus doesn't get onto you," she said with a wink he couldn't see but could definitely hear in the tone of her voice. Doug chortled and the two walked out of town and down the country road together. 

⁂

Frisk and Flowey sat on the bed as Frisk leafed through the book of riddles the Librarian had given her. 

"I feel kind of bad I don't know her name. I think it would be a little awkward if I asked," she said. Flowey chuckled. 

"Just a bit," he said. Frisk shrugged as she read a riddle, a small smile on her face. She was one of the only ones to get past the lion's riddles? Something about that was so thrilling and it also explained why she usually had the library all to herself. 

Frisk glanced up as there was a knock at her door. She bit her lip and put her book aside.  _ Oh is it Sans? Wait, no…  _ No.  _ No. Actually, please don't be Sans.  _

"Yes..?" She asked as she came to the door. Flowey rose a brow as she cracked it open. When she saw that it was in fact Papyrus, something in her was disappointed; much to her dismay. No, she was  _ happy  _ to see Papyrus. Frisk plastered a smile on her face. 

"Human! I need to see you in my office, we must discuss something," he said sharply. Frisk pursed her lips. What could he possibly want to talk about? ...Was she in trouble? When he offered no explanation, she sighed with resolve and followed him downstairs and into his office. 

Papyrus took a seat behind his desk and folded his hand much like a comically evil villain in those cartoons she would watch as a child. The thought brought a smirk to her lips as she sat across from him. 

"Tomorrow, Sans and I will be leaving for the Capitol on important business regarding the Royal Guard around noon," he said. Frisk nodded along. They were leaving her alone? She furrowed her brow. That would be a first. 

"I trust you not to do something foolish, besides, I feel like we have a kind of… rapport. A trust," said Papyrus and the two shared a smile.  _ They trust me?  _ She didn't know why but she felt a warmth in her where she should've felt cruel excitement. After all, they were giving her the chance to escape. However, she didn't find the thrill of escape all that exciting anymore. Like it or not, this house was starting to feel like her house and Snowden was becoming more and more like home. Frisk knew more than anyone that you could get used to anything. 

"Of course we do. Is there anything that needs to be done while you're gone?" She asked. Papyrus nodded curtly.

"There's always something to do. Just do what you normally do. You don't have to make a big dinner though. Feed the farm animals. Calibri is coming with me, so you don't have to worry about him," he explained. Frisk felt a bit disappointed that she'd lose out on taking care of the unicorn. He was always her favorite part of the day. His serenity was contagious and he never failed to calm her of her fears and anxieties. 

"Well, that's ok… I'd love to spend some girl time with Arial and the hens," she said. Papyrus smiled fondly at her. 

"Arial certainly does love you," said Papyrus. Frisk cocked a brow at him, a smug smirk growing on her lips. She knew Arial loved her, but hearing the praise from Papyrus was telling. Her role in this house was changing ever so slightly in her favor. Now that she had a job of her own, she felt less like the brothers' slave and more like a roommate. Now that she was making her own money, she felt like a real person again.

It then hit her that she actually didn't have any way to spend her money, all she had was a check that she needed to file into a bank account that so far didn't exist.  _ Damn bureaucracy!  _

"Oh can...can I ask a question?" She asked. Papyrus nodded at her to continue and she smiled nervously. 

"What does one have to do to open a bank account down here?" She asked. Papyrus's sockets widened. 

"Oh! Blasted, of course, I knew we were missing something! Well...you’ll just have to come with us then. This certainly puts a wrench in my plans,” he grumbled as he paced about his office. Frisk frowned at the notion that she’d be causing trouble. 

“It’s not a big deal, I can do it some other time,” she murmured. Papyrus shook his head, rolling his eye lights to the heavens as if that statement was the most ludicrous thing she had ever said. 

“There’s only a few banks in the Underground and none of them are in Snowden. I’ll have Sans take you, I can’t be bothered with that. I have several meetings with the King I need to attend. This will work perfectly fine,” he murmured as the cogs in his head turned. Frisk could almost see the steam coming out from his skull. The thought pulled a laugh from her lips.  _ That is kind of a shame though… I was kind of looking forward to being left alone… Well… I mean this house can get kind of spooky. Maybe this will be fun. I’ve never been to the Capitol before.  _

“What are the meetings for?” She asked curiously as he rummaged through his desks for his documents. Papyrus grunted dismissively as he pulled out a stack of papers. She watched as he leafed through them until he came upon his bank account information. 

“That is none of your concern, Human.” She really hated when he referred to her as  _ Human.  _ It felt so…impersonal and dismissive. She huffed with slight frustration at being kept in the dark. She had an idea though. Doug had said they were taking a census, and spring was nearing. It probably had something to do with the infamous Purge. She knew the brothers held the Purge in negative regard so she decided not to push it. 

“Tomorrow, after you’ve finished your shift, make yourself useful and go to the library to print out one of these,” he murmured as he held up a copy of his own account request. She squinted at the paper as she read Papyrus’s immaculate handwriting.  _ Papyrus Gaster… oh my God, is that—  _ He quickly put the paper away when he noticed her prying eyes. So that was their last name. Gaster… She felt like she now knew the most forbidden of knowledge, and she had attained it in the most mundane of ways. That was the name that had gotten Sans pissed off enough to take his anger out on her.  _ Gaster. _ She felt wrong as the name played in her mind. The name somehow felt dirty, and filled with unresolved malice. 

“Yes sir,” she said hastily. Now extremely uncomfortable, she quickly made her way to the door. Papyrus waved her off and she closed the door behind her. She let out a heavy breath and jogged upstairs. As she passed Sans’s room, her heart picked up in speed and she ran the rest of the way, half expecting Sans to storm out and assault her for knowing what she now knew. She threw her door closed and cupped her face in her hands to cool herself off. 

Frisk sighed and wiped her forehead. She was being ridiculous.  _ Snap out of it Frisk, you’re fine.  _

“You ok?” Asked Flowey as he sat at her desk. She glanced over at him and smiled softly. He was drawing a picture. Her interest was piqued and she came over to him. 

“What’s this?” She asked. Flowey smiled at her and glanced back down at his colors. Chalky pastels. He was coloring a golden garden of flowers. Much like the flowers she had awoken in when she first arrived in the Underground. 

“Oh...nothing, just something I was doing to pass the time,” he said with a shrug. Frisk leaned into the drawing and smiled softly. 

“You’re talented...I wish I could draw,” she said. The colors blended seamlessly, and the lighting was perfect and picturesque. Golden sun streaming in and lighting upon golden, purple, pink, green. All coming together to create a masterpiece. Where had he learned to do this? 

“Oh shut it—” 

“—No! It’s good! I will  _ not  _ be silenced!” She exclaimed playfully. Flowey hid his proud smile and he looked away.

“Whatever, idiot…you really like it?” He asked. Frisk nodded and grabbed the paper. It was beautiful, of course she liked it. When she shot Flowey a  _ duh-I-already-said-that  _ look, he giggled and shut his insecurities up. 

“We ought to frame it and hang it up. Right there; above the window,” she said with giddy excitement. She held up her fingers to look like a picture frame and rose them up, squinting her eye as she imagined the drawing hanging up for all to see. It would bring some color to the room. 

“We should fill these walls with drawings, really make it ours, you know?” She mused as she sat on her bed. Flowey eyed her. 

“You say that like this is our house and we’re not just… forced to be here,” he murmured sullenly. Frisk rolled her eyes and turned to face him. 

“We do live here though… like it or not. Might as well make the best of it,” she stated. Flowey nodded along. Of course she was right. 

“We’re going to the Capital tomorrow, by the way,” said Frisk as Flowey climbed back over to her from his perch on the desk. His beady eyes widened with shock. 

“Oh? Why?” He asked. Frisk shrugged and sat back against a pillow. A lot of reasons. Papyrus had meetings he needed to attend that were of utmost importance, who knew what Sans was doing, or what he would’ve done prior to her sudden inclusion. She needed to open a bank account and… how exciting would it be to finally see other places besides Snowden day in and day out? She could use a change of scenery. She was also a little scared. New places always had new risks.  _ With Sans and Papyrus on your team, you’ll be alright though.  _

“Important meetings and we’re opening a bank account for me to file my checks.” Flowey nodded at the casual information. He chuckled as a thought struck him.

“They’re literally giving you every tool of becoming a full fledged citizen of the Underground. It’s almost like they want you to leave.” Frisk frowned at the words. She had put thoughts of escaping long behind her. She didn’t see it as completely necessary anymore… not like she had the first week she had spent there. She was becoming autonomous and in a way, that was its own freedom. She didn’t try to fool herself into thinking that she could make it on her own for one second. She was still a human, no matter how many bank accounts she opened under the name Moxie Valentine. The brothers were an insurance she couldn’t take for granted. Besides...she was weirdly used to them now. She didn’t want to get into it with Flowey however, so she merely shrugged and dropped the topic. 

“Perhaps… So when  _ did  _ you learn to use pastels and draw pictures like that?” She asked. Flowey glanced away, and that same tense silence that usually came when she asked him questions like this engulfed the room. 

“Well you know I wasn’t always a flower…” he murmured. She waited for him to tell her more, but he didn’t.  _ Well that’s fine…  _ It certainly wasn’t her place to pry. So filled with mystery, all of them. Sometimes mysteries were exhausting. Frisk pursed her lips. 

“How did that happen? How does someone become a flower?” She asked as she ran her thumb delicately over the fragile pastel flowers. Flowey glanced away, avoiding her gaze as best he could. 

“Alphys,” he murmured finally. Frisk rose a brow and glanced down at him with newfound confusion. Alphys? Who was she? The question was written on her face, and Flowey sighed. 

“She’s the royal scientist. A robotic engineer of sorts, but she dabbles in bio-animachemistry and...she created Mettaton.” Frisk’s nose scrunched up at the reminder of the celebrity. 

“Papyrus said he was invented by a heroin addict,” said Frisk. Flowey nodded solemnly at the fact. 

“He’s not wrong… she’s gotten herself into a pretty...stressful position. The last person who was Asgore’s royal scientist committed suicide,” he said. How did Flowey know so much? She could only assume he had been around for a long time and had seen a lot of things.

“Who was the old royal scientist?” She asked. Flowey shrugged and glanced around the room. He was quiet for a long time, as if saying the name would invoke a curse. He looked back up at her and frowned. 

“I can’t remember for the life of me.” He was lying. Frisk knew he was lying, but she didn’t want to push it, or argue. If Flowey didn’t want to talk about it, he probably had a good reason to. 

⁂

Sans lay ridged in his bed as shadows shifted in the night. He had made the mistake of dozing off, but now he was awake. Or at least his mind was awake. The rest of him was paralyzed by exhaustion. He couldn't move. He glanced around, his room pitch black. His door was shut… God not tonight. He could feel his soul wrench in his chest as terror seized him.  _ His door opened _ and didn't open at the same time and  _ the shadows shifted. _ Sans shut his eyes to avoid looking at what he knew would be waiting for him. 

_ The room got heavy and a breath brushed against his cheek.  _ Sans kept his eyes firmly shut. He wasn't doing this tonight.  _ A murmur unfolded from the darkness.  _ No,  _ Go the fuck away and just let me sleep.  _ He kept his eyes shut tight for what felt like hours, and despite better knowledge he made the dangerous assumption that it had passed. Slowly…Very slowly as if by their own volition, his eyes opened.  _ A white skull was glaring at him. Black sockets for eyes. Two large cracks running along his twisted face. The one thing in this hell that terrified him more than anything else.  _

_ The walls seemed to writhe with black ooze; dripping, thick, suffocating. This time he couldn't close his eyes. Now that this grinning skull had his attention, it backed away and sat across from him. The two were locked in a staring contest. It murmured unintelligibly, its words seeming to fade in and out like radio static. One phrase stood out to him though.  _

_ "I'm still here…"  _

_ Hands clasped onto him, he could  _ feel _ them.  _

  
  


The Cockatrice crowed, jolting him out of the paralyzed state. His room returned to normal, as if it had never been altered in any way.

One shadow was moving however, and silver eyes gazed across at him before the shade padded away. He wiped his face and groaned. Did he have to go to work today? He'd rather not. Jesus…Today he'd have to go to the Capitol. This was going to be an awful day, he could already tell. 

With a groan, he rose from his bed, the unease of his night terror clawing and tugging at him with each step he took. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of a slower chapter but what is life without it's quiet moments? Things will pick up with the next three chapters. 
> 
> Up Next: Sans and Frisk hang out in the Capitol. 
> 
> As always if you enjoy this story, please make sure you show the love by leaving kudos or comments. Hearing from your guys is the highlight of my week.


	23. Cologne and the Capitol

Chapter Twenty Three: Cologne and the Capitol

* * *

It was going to be that kind of Tuesday. Sans could feel it in his bones as he trudged downstairs. Frisk had left already, and there was no coffee. He could’ve used some coffee. Papyrus had left as well, which only meant that he would be considered late. He groaned and jerked his arms through his jacket sleeves and made his way to the door. 

When he got to his sentry station, he found it empty, which could only mean that he would be spending this day alone until he and his brother left for the Capitol. Then he’d have to sit and wait around for the whole rest of the day. Truthfully, Sans didn’t have to go, but (although he wouldn’t admit it) Papyrus preferred having him around for...moral support. Sans was basically his yes man when they were out and about. If Papyrus wanted him to do something, he did it. If only to make his little brother happy— it sure didn’t quell Papyrus’s ego.

Sans chuckled at the musings. He had definitely been an enabler of his brother’s insipid ego. 

He jumped when a banging resounded on his station’s door.  _ Speak of the devil... _ he thought bitterly as he went to open it. Papyrus shoved past him and barreled into the room like a bullet. He wasn’t angry though, Sans would know if he was. 

“I need to discuss a hiccup in our plans with you, brother,” he said. Sans sighed and went to sit down. Papyrus didn’t wait for his permission -he never did- to continue, and so prattled on. Sans zoned out. He couldn’t care less about the meetings or what Papyrus had planned. The meetings were such a boring— “Frisk—” Frisk? 

He glanced up. Papyrus had his full attention now.  _ What about her? What does she have to do with the Capitol?  _

“Wait can you...go back?” he asked. Papyrus glared at him, before rolling his eyes and sighing with contempt. 

“Like I was saying, Frisk is coming with us. She needs a checking account opened and… I need you to go with her,” he explained. Sans didn’t know if he was irritated or excited by the news. She was coming with them? He had to watch her? 

“Why am I just now hearing about this?” he asked. Papyrus cocked a brow bone at him in puzzlement before he shook his head with annoyance. 

“I said it was a hiccup! It came out of nowhere, for pete’s sake, don’t you listen? Don’t start complaining,” he snapped. Sans chuckled and shook his head at his brother. 

“I’m not complaining.” Papyrus held his hand up to him to cut him off. Sans rolled his eyes to the heavens. 

“I said don’t start—”

“—I’m not! But just to be clear, you have me on babysitting duty?” Asked Sans. Papyrus rolled his eyes. 

“Sans...I figured you’d need something to do to get you off your ass,” he grumbled. Sans sighed at Papyrus’s casual dig at him. He was used to it, or at least, he tried to convince himself to get used to it. He smirked when he found the perfect moment to get back at him and glanced up, that shit-eating grin growing wider on his stupid face. Papyrus’s sockets widened when he realized what was about to happen. 

“So… instead of babysitting—”

“—Sans—”

“—I’ll be baby _ standing…”  _ Papyrus glowered at him as Sans chuckled shittily. Papyrus shook his head in annoyance as he made his way out. 

“That wasn’t even clever.” Sans couldn’t help but break down cackling at the stupid joke as Papyrus left him to his work, grumbling his irritation at his brother’s antics. Sans grinned when he was finally left alone. Left alone… Left alone with Frisk for the whole time in the Capitol?  _ Left alone with Frisk for the whole time in the Capitol…  _

Why was he getting excited? It’s not like he’d never been alone with Frisk before. He’d been alone with her plenty of times. Granted, not always in the best circumstances. He was promptly reminded of every negative encounter he had ever had with her. But then again… lately things have started...changing. He found himself wanting to be around her. 

God when she had climbed onto the roof and talked with him that night… he didn’t know what had gotten into her, but whatever it was, he needed more of it. There was something about her that was so genuine… It was so strange. She was strange. She was  _ weird.  _ She made him feel weird. It was intoxicating.  _ She’s got you worse than she's got Papyrus you bone head.  _

He replayed that night on the roof over and over in his mind. Her leaning against him… 

_ “That’s the asshole you compare me to, right?” _

_ “Can you blame me?” _

_ “...No.” _

_ “Well...I’ll let you know if that changes.”  _

That implied she was willing to give him a chance. She knew exactly how to wrap someone around her little finger. Sans sighed and ran his hand along his head as if to physically rub away the intrusive thoughts.

Why was he being an idiot? Why did he need her to give him a chance at all? Why did he crave her presence? What was it about her that he couldn't shake off? No other girl got to him like she did. Riled him up… Was that so bad? What did he want? 

Long, boring hours passed and finally it was getting close to time. Pick her up at the library. Those were his orders. He got to town early, and made his way to Bonnie's. Why was he getting so flustered? Why did he want to make a good impression? Why was he coming up with plans? 

He knew a few cool places in the Capitol that she would love, but why did he care to take her? All he had to do, technically, was take her to the bank and help her open up an account. He didn't have to show her a good time or anything. But Papyrus was in those meetings for a long time and…Frisk  _ and  _ Sans had worked all week and… 

"Sans, what can I do for you?" Asked Bonnie nervously. Sans glanced around as if trying to hide his flustered embarrassment. What was he doing? 

"Ah—um… Papyrus… wanted me to pick him up uh, some cologne. Just your standard shit, you know? Uh, for his little meetings, right? So… whatcha' got?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the counter. Bonnie shot him an amused look. 

"Just so we're clear it's for Papyrus, right?" She asked as she pointed him in the direction of the perfumes and cologne. Sans narrowed his eyes at her and she shrank away. 

With that out of the way, he sauntered cooly over to the case of colognes. What was he doing? He felt ridiculous. Why did he care? He shouldn't have cared. Maybe Frisk would… like it though…  _ God you're such an idiot… get that one.  _ He took up a cologne in a cubed, black bottle, a shot of red going through the glass. Cute design. He rolled his eyes. He was an idiot.  _ Phoenix's Ashes… this is so fucking lame…  _ he sprayed and sniffed it. It was a good scent. Earthy with a tinge of sweet spice… almost like a campfire.  _ This is stupid… buy it.  _ And buy it he did. 

Bonnie smirked to herself and glanced up at him. She asked no questions though and waved him off, watching him as he went. 

Sans checked his watch. Ok it was one o'clock. She should be done. He made his way to the library. As he approached the stairs, none other than the library lions sprung to life and snarled at him. 

"Halt—"

"—Out of my way, tigerlily," he snapped as he pushed past them. The lions growled with bemusement before jumping back onto their perches. 

"No need to be rude…" grumbled the first one. Sans jogged up the stairs. Shit he couldn't bring in a bag of cologne… He ducked behind a marble pillar. What was he doing, what was he doing, _what was he doing?_ _God damnit. You know what? I hope she doesn't even notice._ He sprayed himself with the cologne and rubbed his neck, before tossing the bag in a trash can and pocketing the cologne. He hoped it wouldn't leak out and stain his jacket. _You're such a dumbass._

Sans stood before the library doors and swayed on the balls of feet as he debated on going in or not. Why was he nervous? Was he sweating?  _ Stop.  _ With that forceful thought, he barged in, throwing the doors open as if to announce his presence to the world. No one was in the Library except the Sphinx and Frisk at the old row of computers. They both jumped with fright at his sudden entrance and Sans smiled sheepishly as he made his way toward her. 

"Hey… kiddo, you ready?" He asked. The Sphinx shushed him...almost out of spite and he rolled his eyes. Frisk hummed thoughtfully and nodded. She grabbed a stack of papers she had printed off and signed out of the dinosaur of a computer. 

"Yes. You're not too bothered with this right? I know it was last minute, and even I didn't know I was coming. I know you probably didn't want to have to—"

"—Would you shut up? It's fine. Beats sitting in the Palace for a whole day," he grunted as they meandered to the exit. Frisk waved goodbye to the Librarian and the two left. She glanced up at him, her eyes glittering just past that pesky mask of hers and Sans could practically feel his soul swell. Memories of their night on the roof flooded his mind and his grin softened. How could it be possible to be so enamored by one person? It's not like he had asked for these confusing mixture of emotions and thoughts. He remembered when he had first met Frisk he had been aware of physical attraction and didn't have the purest of thoughts about her but that was different. Things seemed different now, and he didn't know if he was all too… opposed to it. 

"Should we go to the bank first?" She asked as she shoved her documents into her bag. Sans shrugged, twitching a bit at the formality of it all. 

"Sounds good to me, sweetheart," he grunted nonchalantly as they strolled through the streets of Snowden. Sans pinpointed a place in the Capitol in his mind's eye as smoke poured around them. He grabbed Frisk, and with that, disappeared from Snowden.

⁂

Frisk gasped for air when they reappeared somewhere new. A park. Not just any park however. She looked around, squinting past her mask. They were surrounded by walls of vibrant colors. Graffiti. Her mask hid the complete look of awe on her face. 

A giant mural of mythical creatures weaving in and out of one another. Cats on the moon. Stars. So many stars. A sun shining brilliant rays of light. Flowers. So many flowers. Lots of bubbly letters. Words of rebellion. Anti-violence sentiment that had been power washed and repainted over and over again. Mettaton's screen being smashed with colors spewing out along with the words, "Free Speech!" Birds. Birds flying over mountains.  _ Mountains.  _ Murals of everything the monsters wanted. Dreamed about. Right here. She was bearing witness to it all. 

"Whoa! Where are we?" She gasped as she walked up to the wall. There was an image of a blue flower in a dark blue cavern. It was the most beautiful of all the images. Silver words spiraled around the flower. She squinted and leaned closer.  _ Angels are found in small acts _ . 

Sans chuckled to himself at her wonder and she drew away from the mural and back to him. He gestured around, eyeing the murals of psychedelic colors and characters. 

"The Capitol's underbelly. Don't worry, Banks just two blocks down but...we have so much time I figured why not stop and smell the roses," he said. Frisk eyed him, a hesitant smile growing on her hidden lips as she remembered the time they had shared walking together. When he had pointed out the woodpecker gryphon in tender excitement. There were so many layers to Sans the Skeleton and she almost felt a glimmer of pride that he was showing them to her. 

_ "I don't usually take the scenic route, but when I do, it's fun to stop and smell the roses."  _

_ "Tu es drôle, Sans le squelette,"  _ she murmured. Sans's grin flickered with something unknown as they stood in the midst of the vivid art of daydreams and nightmares. 

"Come on that's not fair, you know I can't understand a word you say," he muttered softly. Her feet shifted and she bit her lip. There was something so strange about him, something she was drawn to no matter how much she fought it. 

_ "On a tous les deux des secrets,"  _ she whispered, hugging her bag to her chest. There was something a little... different about him today. She realized just how close the two had gotten, especially when Flowey cleared his throat as if to snap them out of the strange trance they had on each other. 

_ "Ahem,  _ I believe we have a checking account to open," he grumbled, his beady, little eyes narrowed at the skeleton before them. Sans's gaze lingered on her and she felt her breath sucked out from her. Slowly, he shrugged and turned away. 

"Whateva' ya say, your highness," he grunted. Flowey paled if it was possible for a flower to pale. Frisk glanced at him with piqued interest. When Flowey shook his head and hid back under her jacket, she sighed and turned away to catch up with Sans.

_ What happened?  _ She wasn't an idiot… she had sensed the change in atmosphere. She had seen the softness in his eyes and felt the gentleness in his touch and breath. It was much like the time on the roof. She drew closer to him. There  _ was  _ something different… 

"Are you… are you wearing cologne?" She asked, a coy smile growing on her lips. Sans scoffed and rolled his skull up to the sky, hiding the embarrassed grin on his face from her pretty, brown eyes. 

"Uhm… _ no?  _ This is just… my natural… Yeah I'm—I'm wearing cologne. It's an important day, are you judging me? What, a guy can't wear cologne?" He snapped, but the nervous laughter in his voice betrayed him. Frisk giggled and shook her head. 

"I just didn't pin you down as the kind of guy to—" 

"—Well maybe you should stop trying to pin me down. It's really uncivilized," he said with a wink. Frisk blushed and she tried to fight the smile growing on her face. Thank God the mask was hiding her flustered grin.  _ He's got jokes.  _ She thought with a bitter sweetness. Sans chuckled as they came up to a crosswalk. Monsters of all shapes and sizes surrounded them, but much like in Snowden, one look at the skeleton was enough to make them back away and give the two plenty of space. 

"I know you like my jokes," he said as they crossed the street, dodging chariots and carriages. Frisk's eyes were drawn to the city. The buildings were stacked on one another like people crowding into an elevator. The streets were slender and paved in cobble stone. Victorian street lamps flickered above them. A haze of fog drifted through the buildings and obscured the sky. 

"Hm? How do you know that?" She hummed as their shoes clicked against the flagstones. Sans grinned at her as they crossed another street, monsters walking circles around them to avoid his gaze. Frisk was promptly reminded of the story Charlotte had told her.  _ Waited at her home and attacked her until she was almost dead. Next day, Papyrus was Lieutenant.  _

"Because you get this little hidden smile you try to force down. But I know you like them, no matter how much you try to hide it," he said with a smug grin. She glanced at him, her brown eyes glittering in the lamplight. That same blush rose to her cheeks. What was he trying to do? Wearing cologne… noting the way she smiled. She shook her head. 

"...What do you want?" She asked with humor lacing her voice. Sans's grin faltered and he sighed. How many times did she ask that question and end up answerless? When he had delivered her letter, when he had gotten her that Beatles album in a drunken haze...now. 

"Does a guy always have to want something?" He asked. The bank was just up ahead. It was almost as impressive as the library in Snowden. Frisk glanced at him and frowned. 

"Everyone wants something," she said pointedly as they made their way up the marble stairs. Sans shook his head and eyed her curiously. That gaze he gave her so often when she said something especially intriguing. 

"Well...what do you think I want?" He asked. Frisk pursed her lips and shrugged. She didn't know. She honestly didn't. Knowing people was one of the things she prided herself on, reading people… but she had never been able to read Sans. Certainly not the way he read her.  _ You always get this hidden smile on your face.  _ She was ashamed to admit she was blushing furiously. 

"I don't know… I like the cologne by the way… you should wear it more often," she said coyly as they entered the bank. Sans faltered as he watched her, his soul growing light with an infuriating giddiness. She liked it? She liked it… A small, triumphant grin grew on his face and he sauntered after her. 

Boots clicked against polished wooden floors as they approached the teller’s window. Frisk glanced around them as monsters made a show of moving out of line to make Sans’s life easier. They eyed her, a flicker of memory crossing their faces. Here was the girl who had stood up against Papyrus. They didn’t know whether to be scared of her too or if the brothers had a weakness now to be exploited. Like they would ever cross a reaper. No one would dare.

The teller was a mousey monster, hiding behind large glasses. He looked to be in his natural habitat. When he glanced up at the skeleton looming over him, he gave a frightened squeak and fixed his glasses. 

“Oh Sans Ga— THE SKELETON! Sans the Skeleton… what, I mean, how can we be of service to you?” Sans glanced down at Frisk, annoyance in his eyes, and he pushed her forward. She gulped and leafed through her papers.  _ That idiot had almost said his last name. _ She glanced up at Sans as she pulled out her papers and put them on the counter. He didn’t seem all too perturbed. He actually seemed to be in a rather good mood. Hopefully he stayed that way. She had been on the receiving end of his anger and she did  _ not  _ want to be there again. 

“She wants to open an account, right Moxie?” He asked. Frisk nodded and slid her papers forward. The teller eyed her curiously before glancing back up at the skeleton before him. 

“Is this going to be under your accounts, sir?” Asked the teller. Sans shot her a thoughtful look. 

“What do you think, kid?” He asked. Frisk bit her lip in thought. That would certainly be easier… but this was about independence and the whole point was her living for herself. Having an account under  _ his _ name kind of defeated the purpose… 

“No, no, it’s my own account, it’s my own,” she said hastily. Sans shrugged and looked at the teller with a nod. 

“Well you heard her, let’s make this snappy,” he grunted. The teller nodded hastily and looked through her paperwork. 

“It appears you don’t have any sort of ID, do you have your Rune?”  _ My what?  _ Sans glowered and leaned forward over the desk. The teller’s eyes widened as his fangs glinted in the office light. 

“Are you serious? She doesn’t have her Rune because her ex husband has been controlling her and has all her paperwork. This is the one thing she’ll have to her name so make it happen or,” his sockets went black and the teller’s face paled, _ “I’ll make it happen myself,” _ he growled. 

Frisk’s heart spiked in the thrill of watching Sans at work. He was impressively intimidating and she found she appreciated when that black stare wasn’t directed at her. She looked back at the bank teller with a smug sense of satisfaction glistening in her eyes. Sans certainly did make a good ally. The teller gulped and nodded slowly.  _ Lucky me for getting stuck with him.  _ A soft snort escaped her nose and she rolled her eyes playfully at the thought. 

“Of course sir, I… I’m so sorry,” he murmured as he typed away at his computer. He murmured something else to the effect of I’ll-get-that-opened-for-you-immediately and no more questions were asked. She glanced up at him, her heart fluttering in her chest. It was strange to think that someone like him could possibly be sympathetic to her, could possibly care even an ounce for her… but lately things changed. She didn’t know if that made her happy or not. It certainly made her feel something and it wasn’t exactly bad. Maybe… cautiously grateful? Cautious… but open. 

In no time, the account was opened and her check was cashed. She made a withdrawal of two-hundred gold and the money was handed to her in an envelope. She was flooded with excitement. She bid the teller goodbye and that morbid saying was tossed between them.  _ Occidere aut Occidi. Kill or be killed.  _

“I don’t get that saying. What’s the whole deal with the kill or be killed thing?” She asked as the fog of the city hit them once they left the bank. Sans glanced down at her and grunted. 

“It’s just a social rule, no one really does it unless they’re desperate,” he said. Frisk frowned, shaking her head with baffled frustration. 

“What do you mean by that?” She asked again. Flowey screamed and she yelped as Sans yanked her out of the street, a wild carriage speeding down the flagstones. The fiery horses pulling it puffed a disappointed gust of smoke at her. Flowey’s eyes bulged from his face and she gasped for air as her heart thundered a million miles per second. 

Sans breathed out a sigh of relief and draped his arm around her, much to Flowey’s dismay. 

“Do I really have to teach you how to look both ways?” He teased. Frisk sagged under the weight of his arm as she regained her breath. She let herself laugh and brushed him off. 

“My hero,” she murmured begrudgingly. Flowey sunk back down into the collar of her coat. Sans chuckled and ruffled her hair. Frisk was so thankful for the mask; he didn’t need to see the shades of red her face was turning. 

“You’re lucky you have me around to save you,” he said with a boyish snicker. Frisk rolled her eyes.  _ He did not just say that.  _

“You’re joking right?” She asked, and she bit her lip as a light flickered in her mind. Why not play along with his games? 

“Because if so…I don’t find it  _ humerus,”  _ she said with a cheeky grin as she grabbed his upper arm and squeezed it. His eyes widened and a wide smile grew on his face. Flowey groaned at the blatant pun, and Sans let out a sharp bark of a laugh. Frisk was practically glowing. 

“Oh my God, that was a good one,” he wheezed between howling laughter. Frisk joined him, the two stumbling against a building and out of the crowd’s way as they lost it over a shitty pun. Flowey moaned with disapproval. 

“No! You joined the dark side!” He wailed, which only made Frisk laugh more. Her ribs hurt so much she was laughing so hard. She tried to bite the laughter as several monsters shot them wary glances. Sans leaned against the brick and snickered as the laughter died down. She really did that… his soul was practically exploding with something so frustratingly giddy. 

"You are… somethin' else," he said as they calmed down. She giggled and shook her head. 

"Yeah… so I'm told." She pushed herself off the wall and meandered down the sidewalk. She glanced back over her shoulder to find him watching her. When their eyes met, he winked at her and joined her side. With that, the two made their way down the boulevard; sparing hidden looks at each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that was the moment Sans's metaphorical heart said, "ahhh shit." 
> 
> Up next: We join Papyrus during his meetings with the King and the Royal Guard.


	24. Second Best

**A/N: Hello! Poppin in before the chapter to share some art of Sans and Frisk.**

[Chapter 21 Rooftop scene ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/uanpeBjQVRUMep5h9)

[Sans character art](https://photos.app.goo.gl/AUCaH5YZHWhFpLe67)

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Chapter Twenty Four: Second Best 

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The black palace loomed over the city. Red flags with that signature golden Delta Rune fluttered in the wind. A giant rose window towered over Papyrus as he marched into the large, black doors. His boots clicked on golden halls and golden flowers invaded the air with their sickeningly sweet perfume. The halls of King Asgore Dreemur's palace were extravagant and very rich. 

As he marched down the golden judgement hall, colored rays of light cascading over his face, he felt wrong and out of place. Like he wasn't truly welcome here. Why would he be? Asgore was terribly threatened by Reapers. He should be too. Papyrus was quite proud to be one of the more powerful monsters on Earth. It was a shame that he and his brother were the last of their kind alive. 

The further he walked down those golden halls the more wrong and out of place he felt. His bones were practically rattling. He and his brother had survived a lot. When someone as powerful as Asgore Dreemur was threatened...he made sure to retain his position as number one.  _ Always second.  _

As Papyrus made it into the Hall of Songs he halted at the door. He never felt good when entering this room. His red eye lights trailed up as he held his breath. The roof towered over him, a dome, and golden light streamed through. The floor was filled with those sickeningly sweet golden flowers that lead directly to Asgore's throne. He hadn't arrived yet. 

Papyrus was early though, the meeting wouldn't start for another ten minutes. Up above in the second seats were the members of Asgore's high council. Their cloaks of white and their blood red stoles covering their forms. No one really knew where they had come from. One day, after the Queen had been exiled they showed up and had been running things from the background ever since. They only took direct orders from the king...and they never spoke unless in the ancient tongue. There were seven. Perhaps to symbolize the seven human sorcerers who trapped the monsters down in the depths of the mountain. 

Their red eyes locked onto Papyrus and they watched him with an unwavering stare. He clenched his jaw as he took his seat to the left of Asgore's throne. 

Slowly, the other commanders trickled into the Hall of Songs. A Dragonborne and Lapine pair from Hotland. A Gorgon from the Capitol. A cyclops from the Core. Last but... definitely not least… Undyne Leviathan. General of the Royal Guard.

Papyrus watched with narrowed eyes as she took off her helmet, stark red hair falling over her armor clad shoulders. She was covered in scars… and her one yellow eye seemed to fall directly on him. They shared a look mixed with contempt and understanding. They both had their scars dealt to them by Asgore Dreemur, but neither of them had ever admitted that to one another. Or grew enough past their pride and contempt for the other to reach out. Papyrus didn't know if he wanted to or not. She was after all, the only thing standing in his way from his true potential.  _ Always second.  _

He couldn't help but feel a flush of anger anytime he was in the same room as her. She enabled Asgore as his second in command. She followed all his orders. She was the one who rounded up people annually for their executions during the Purge. If Papyrus was in charge he would've put a stop to it a long time ago. He and his brother after all… were very  _ very  _ powerful and could easily fight against the king. Still… six souls. Six souls were enough to outmatch any skeleton. He was lucky he had made it as far as Lieutenant.  _ Always second.  _ He hated just how much Mettaton had been right about him.  _ Always second aren't you Papyrus?  _

Finally, the King arrived. Papyrus's soul gave a tremor of terror and he shot up to his feet along with the other commanders. They bowed low. Papyrus hated bowing. He hated bowing to this tyrant… but he was in the long game. 

The king loomed over his commanders, a cruel gleam in his amber eyes. The high council members stood and gave their chilling chant in pledge to him. 

_ "Hoc sacramentum diximus, nobis exhibito, hora. Hostes omnes erunt occisionis. In hoc est infernum ibi est una regula, una veritas. Infragilis. Occidere aut occidi."  _

When the pledge came to a close, the King took his seat. He was so close. If Papyrus was bold enough he could pick him right then, right there. Penetrate his soul with his shards of bone and kill him. End his reign… but Papyrus was a bit too prideful to become a Martyr and he knew he would be killed. Besides, Asgore would be replaced by someone just like him. What good would it be to die for nothing? 

So… Papyrus merely sat still, glaring below at the putrid golden flowers. 

"Shall we begin?" Asgore's voice was a rumble of thunder. The commanders nodded solemnly. 

The meeting went slow and touched upon the topics of population in each district of the underground. The Capitol stood at five hundred thousand monsters, and that included the five major prisons that stood on the outskirts of the city. Five hundred thousand meaningless lives spent paying taxes and fearing death every day. At any moment, any one of those five hundred thousand lives could be imprisoned for treason, or worse. They could be thrown in the gladiator arenas, in the gallows, in the mills of waterfall. Waterfall itself, a collection of small farm towns rounded out at around five thousand. Half of them were worked to the death on one plot of land providing finite resources to the Underground. Land tax was high and many were in debt. Come summer...a lot of land would open up. Hotland; fifteen thousand. The core; a hundred thousand. 

Papyrus was last. The Winter Wood was the least populated in the underground. It had little to offer besides the ice it provided to the core to help cool it… and the brothel ran by Grillby. Five hundred. Five hundred closely knit monsters that had lost all too much during the first purges. Papyrus had grown fond of his district. It was far removed from the violence in Hotland and the evil in the heart of the capitol, and far...far away from Asgore’s reign. He knew he’d be inspected eventually, probably come December, but that felt ages away. A member of the high council would come around and make sure he was enforcing Asgore’s policies. That everything was running smoothly and that the people were too bent and broken. Applications for the Royal Guard would be coming in after the December Duals. His mind was flooded with the upcoming events he’d have to plan for. 

The meeting came to a stall as several prisoners were brought out before them. Papyrus eyed them warily as they listened to their pleas for a second chance. They had been caught working with the Angelicans; rebels to the king who were still holding onto the hope that they could fight back against his tyranny and the hope that the Angel of prophecy would come down and save them all. These prisoners were being given the chance to escape the purge and rejoin society after a nice re-education done by the High council. Asgore had never done this before. 

Papyrus spared a glance up at those cloaked demons that glared down at the quaking prisoners before them. 

“You have all volunteered to battle for your freedom in the Equinox Olympics. You only need to pledge your devotion and kneel before me in everlasting loyalty,” uttered the king. Papyrus twitched as he watched the prisoners glance at each other, solemn disgust on their face. But they had been broken, and they were ready to fight for a second chance. A lot of them probably had families. 

Papyrus recognized one of them as a female Snowdrake. He glanced over at Undyne, who stared coldly ahead. He checked his notes. Was that… Frederick’s wife? She was. Bianca Drake. So his suspicions about the Drake family’s involvement in the Angelicans was correct. They had a son if he remembered. She wasn’t going to survive the arena, he could already see that. 

The prisoners did as told and Undyne and Papyrus were prompted to anoint them. A blue glow filled the Hall of Songs as the two summoned their magic. Right now. He could kill the king right now… He glanced at Undyne as a spear formed in her hand. She would end him. She was sickeningly loyal to the king. His eyes narrowed as the both of them rose their weapons of choice and slashed the prisoners one by one. A gaping cut through each of their chests. Not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to render their uppermost flesh into dust and spill it onto the golden flowers below them. 

Asgore lifted his chin as he watched with cruel delight at the dusting of the flowers. When the two commanders met in the middle, they stopped and turned to each other. They shared a foreign look of understanding, but as quickly as it came, it was snuffed out and they hastily turned away from each other. They bowed to their king and returned to their seat as the prisoners were dragged away. The High Council shrieked with enjoyment, the hall filling with the blood curdling song it got its name for. They were sirens of hate. 

Papyrus’s soul was shaken. Every year he had done this it was something different. This year had been the first that Asgore had offered freedom. Usually it was extended time from execution. Never freedom. This option was suspicious. Papyrus glanced over at the king as he stared ahead in thought. What was he planning? 

Then came the darker subject of the meeting. The Vernal Purge. Papyrus felt sick to his stomach at the topic. He never got used to it no matter how many times he attended this meeting. The hospitals, prisons and nursing homes for the elderly would be emptied out. Not even the public opinion of gladiators could save those who fought in the arenas from the demise that awaited them. He remembered the first purge… The grim epidemic had swept the Underground… his people had suffered the most. Asgore had been threatened by the reapers after all. He and his brother had never been the same after that fatal Spring. 

“My liege, last spring, we celebrated the Vernal Purge in Hotland. I recall we burned the bodies at the stake in a grand bonfire of patriotism. The smoke of their souls and the fire that choked them billowed in the air and reminded us all just how grand you are, that you watch over us. The ashes of their bodies spread through the land and replenished our resources. This year, I propose the Purge be held in Waterfall. It would be a show of strength against the Angelicans, who have been festering in the marshes of my realm. We could hold it in the old castle fortress to symbolize our rise and perseverance. The fortress was after all, the first location of the Purge,” Undyne’s speech was poetic, her booming voice filling the hall. Papyrus glared ahead, his soul sinking to his feet. The first purge was held at the old fortress. He remembered it vividly. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet,  _ reaper,”  _ murmured the King, his eyes flickering with something unknown as he watched the skeleton. Papyrus glanced up in shock, he avoided those amber eyes.  _ Perhaps because I am imagining your body burning along with the innocent lives you murder…  _

“I think that is incredibly sentimental,” he said. Undyne eyed him warily, a frown growing on her face. The other commanders sunk in their seats as the two glared each other down. 

“Did you have an idea?” She asked, her slit brow rising contemptuously. He clenched his fists and shook his head. He wanted nothing to do with the purges. He didn’t want them anywhere near Snowden and the five hundred citizens he had been tasked with… protecting. 

When he didn’t answer, Asgore cleared his throat and waved his hand. He nodded his head at Undyne in cold approval. The meeting came to a natural close once all the details of the Purge were discussed. They would have it March 20th, the day of the Spring Equinox. The day meant for hope, for life, for renewal… was covered in the dust of monsters. As the Hall of Songs was filled with the excited cries of the High council, and the king dismissed them, Papyrus made a hasty getaway. That meeting had taken much too long for his liking. He was ready for home.

As he marched down the Judgement Hall, he heard the scrape of armor and footfalls of a second pair of boots behind him. 

He growled under his breath and turned. As he suspected, Undyne had been trailing him. 

“Good afternoon General Leviathan,” he grumbled. She sneered at him as the two fell into step. 

“You were awfully quiet during that whole thing,” she noted. He shrugged nonchalantly. It was this point he wished Sans had been by him. Undyne wouldn’t have dared talk to him with the terror of his older brother by his side. Then again, he shouldn’t be relying on his big brother to fight his battles for him. Not when he was an adult. With that final thought, he cleared his throat and turned to Undyne. 

“I apologise, did that bother you?” He spat. Undyne narrowed her eye at him. 

“You know I’ve never felt good about you being in the Royal Guard. You or your brother… you reapers are so…  _ unpredictable.”  _ Papyrus scoffed at the blatant discrimination. People feared what they couldn’t control. Or, what they couldn’t fight. 

“Is that all you wanted to say? Or is there more idiocracy stored in your verbal magazine?” He retorted. Undyne’s eye twitched and she shook her head. 

“What are you planning, Lieutenant Gaster?” She growled. The intentional use of his last name irked him and he tensed. Had he been his brother, he may have killed her right there. He was not his brother, however. Papyrus liked to believe he was a bit more civilized than his savagely, temperamental sibling. A sigh of irritation escaped his nose and he flexed his hands. 

"Only to finally be rid of you one day," he spat as he narrowed his eye sockets. They filed down the golden halls of the palace. Servants bustled about them, trying hard to avoid their path. Undyne trailed to a slow and scowled at him. 

"Gonna sick your brother on me?" Papyrus froze at the reminder of that night. He twitched and glanced at a maid sweeping the hall. One look from him was enough to send her scurrying away, promising to finish the job once they left. 

"Need I remind you the only reason you're still alive is because I stepped in to save you…and let's also not forget  _ why he was there in the first place,"  _ he growled, gesturing to the scars running down his skull. Undyne lifted her chin. 

"You wanted to play leader so bad, you might as well have had the scars to match," she murmured. Her eyepatch only hid part of the gruesome scars rumored to have been given to her by the king himself. Papyrus scoffed at her. 

"You're not a leader, Undyne… you're a coward—"

"—And you could do better? You don't know what I deal with," she retorted. Papyrus glared at her and Undyne shoved past him. 

"I could."  _ I would end this.  _ Her lip curled with seething rage at the challenge. Normally, she would duel someone with the audacity to speak to her that way. She'd pummel them into the ground until they were nothing but a pile of dust… but she knew from experience just how powerful Reapers were… and she wasn't stupid enough to try and fight one  _ again.  _

"The only way you would ever take my place was if you caught a human and delivered it to Asgore on a silver platter. But that will never happen," she spat. Papyrus's eyes widened at the words and his soul stilled. 

"Is that what it takes?" He asked. Undyne narrowed her eye at him. 

"That's what it's always taken," she said before she put on her helmet and marched away. Papyrus watched her go, his eyes narrowing with a cruel calculation. If he was General… he'd be closer to the king. If he was closer to the king… he could put an end to the Purges. If he ended the Purges maybe his brother would finally let go of his grief, and their parents would be avenged. Their _species_ would be avenged. Lastly… Papyrus wouldn't be second to  _ Undyne Leviathan. _

Papyrus glanced around and hastily made his way out of the palace and to the stables where Calibri would be waiting for him. His mind was racing. The cogs in his head were spinning as he thought through what had happened. He needed to be General… and if what Undyne said was true… He had a human. He  _ had _ a human. This is what she was good for. Her purpose was finally made clear. He knew what he had to do. 

He would be a hero. He would save the Underground from the tyranny of Asgore Dreemur. He… Maybe he could even free the monsters. He couldn't do that second to Undyne.  _ He knew what he had to do.  _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: !!! I am an evil, nasty, bastard author and you should never feel safe in this plot. 
> 
> Up Next: Papyrus tells Sans his newly formulated plan.


	25. One Last Favor

Chapter Twenty-Five: One Last Favor 

* * *

“Are you hungry?” Asked Sans as they walked through the front door. Frisk glanced around. They were home much earlier than Papyrus. She didn’t know why she was excited about that knowledge. She shouldn’t have felt excited to be alone with Sans, but here she was. Well… she wasn’t completely alone, not with Flowey clinging onto her back. She turned back to Sans as she took off her mask. 

“I’m famished,” she said with a sweet smile. He grinned and shouldered off his jacket as he led her into the kitchen. 

“Well then you’re in luck, because I happen to know a _really_ good recipe for buffalo wings. I figured if you liked hot dogs, you’d like wings,” he said as he tossed his jacket on the coat rack. She pursed her lips with excitement as she followed suit. He remembered she liked hot dogs? 

“Buffalo wings?” Murmured Flowey as she let him off to sit on the window sill. Sans nodded matter-of-factly. 

“I know a face melting recipe, do you like spicy food?” He asked. Frisk bit her cheek and shrugged coyly. 

“I mean, I think I could handle it. I like wings,” she said. Sans grinned at her and ruffled her hair. Frisk batted his hand away and the two giggled childishly at the exchange. 

"Perfect. It would be nice to change up the diet a bit from all the Italian food,” he said. Frisk rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. 

“ _Oh mon Dieu,_ tell me about it! I’m so sick of Italian food… don’t tell Papyrus but if I have to eat lasagna one more night, I might just jump off the second floor window. I’m getting fat!” She said. Sans groaned as he pulled out a bag of chicken wings from the fridge. 

“Oh shut up, you’re tiny—”

“—It’s all going to my hips—”

“—That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Frisk couldn’t help the creeping blush growing on her face as her jaw gaped. She shoved him playfully and he laughed. 

“Not...necessarily… Oh my God, you’re so gross! I can’t believe you,” grumbled Flowey. Frisk shook her head as Sans rose his hands defensively. 

“You two are so humorless. Now, sweetheart, how ‘bout you get the flour and eggs. Put them in bowls,” he instructed. Frisk raised her eyes to the heavens as she got out the ingredients. 

“I know how to bread chicken,” she said. Sans shrugged and grabbed a couple boxes of unfrosted Temmie Flakes and several spices from the pantry. 

“Yeah, she cooks dinner for you every night,” said Flowey with a smug smirk. Sans shot a withering look at Flowey. _This little asshole is ruining the mood,_ he thought bitterly; one look at Frisk’s heart melting smile was enough to make him forget it though. 

“Well tonight… I’m the chef in this kitchen and you do as I say,” he said, wagging his finger at Frisk. She arched a perfect brow, before she tossed a handful of flour at him. It hit him in a puff of white and his eyes widened. 

“Yes sir,” she said coyly as he stood stock frozen in shock. His shock melted away and was replaced with a newfound playful competition. 

“Ohhh...so that’s how you wanna play,” he half-growled, half-purred into her ear. Frisk tried to ignore the shiver that shot down her spine. She laughed nervously until an egg cracked onto her hair. Frisk gasped with shock as the yolk oozed down her face. Flowey covered his mouth as he stifled a snort. 

“I… I’m going to kill you.” Sans cackled as she raced to the other side of the kitchen island. His eyes widened as she threw an egg straight at his chest. He stumbled back dramatically. 

“Ugh, man down,” he groaned. She laughed as he tossed a handful of cornflakes at her, bits of them getting stuck in her gooey hair. She dodged him as he threw another egg, the shell shattering against the wall. Flowey yelped and dove for cover as the baking good missiles hurled through the air. 

“You know this is really _egg-_ hausting, I think you should surrender,” he said as he shielded himself with a bowl. She cackled at the stupid joke. 

“Oh… don’t be a _chicken,”_ she retorted as she wet her hands in the chicken juice and flicked it at him. 

“Oh my God, don’t you fucking dare,” he said, but they were practically wheezing with laughter. 

“What have you become?” He breathed as he held up his hands. She leaned against the counter as she caught her breath, her eyes wandering about the kitchen. Oh Jesus, she was going to have to clean this up, wasn’t she? As the two caught their breath, they gazed at each other. 

“I think I won,” she murmured. Sans ran his tongue over his fangs as he grinned at her. She felt drawn to that gaze, a shiver running down her spine. She was alarmed at the realization that she wanted him to look at her like that more often. 

“You’re a mess,” he noted, his eyes rolling over her. She smirked and wiped her cheek of egg whites. 

“So are you,” she mumbled as she bit her lip. He sucked in through his teeth and chuckled, breaking their stare, much to her disappointment. 

"Wash your hands, you filthy animal," said Sans as he shook his head with playful bafflement. She smiled that familiar hidden smile as she turned to the sink and poured soap into her hand. What had just happened? Her heart was thundering a mile a minute, and she couldn't stop smiling. 

"What was all that about?" Whispered Flowey as he observed her. She pursed her lips and glanced behind her shoulder. She still couldn't catch her breath. 

The rest of their time in the kitchen was mostly spent in heavy silence. She noticed every now and then Sans watching her. Her stomach felt warm. This whole day with him had been so strange and wonderful all at the same time. Her head was ringing with warnings as her thoughts slipped into places she should've never touched on when it came to Sans the Skeleton. 

Any time he brushed past, her skin seemed to tingle with fire and her heart spiked. _Stupid treacherous body!_ She needed to focus. He was _Sans._ He wasn't prince charming. He shouldn't have been making her feel like this. Not when he had put her through so much misery when they first met but… that felt like ages ago… he treated her much differently now. _Stop it. Stop thinking that way._

Eventually the wings were done and Sans poured them onto a plate. She watched as he whipped together a homemade ranch and put it on the side. 

"When did you learn to cook?" She asked. He glanced back at her and smirked. 

"I used to work in a restaurant, back when I was… uhmm… seventeen? Papyrus was twelve and I was the only one taking care of him. Just me and my buddy Nick. That's where I learned to cook and… I taught Papyrus when he got tired of my _greasy_ food as he put it," he said softly as he sprinkled chopped up green onions over the wings. Frisk's smile softened as she listened to his story. She realized just how many layers Sans had to his character. There really was so much more to him than the terrifying sentry many people knew him as. Part of her wanted to explore more of him; figure him out. 

"You really care about your brother, don't you?" She whispered as she crossed to the kitchen island and leaned over the counter. Sans glanced up at her. She had gotten pretty close. 

"He's all I have left…" he trailed off and glanced away. Frisk frowned, her head tilting as she studied him. What mysteries did he hide behind that abyssal gaze? 

He cleared his throat and waved the subject away with a nervous laugh. 

"But anyway… let's dig in, right?" He said with a grin. She sighed and nodded before looking down at their creation. The wings smelled amazing. She glanced up hesitantly at him and he nodded. 

"Ladies first," he said. She pursed her lips to hide her smile as she reached for a wing. 

"And they say chivalry is dead," she teased. He chuckled and watched with anticipation as she bit into the wing. Frisk was a little embarrassed as the sauce dripped down her chin, especially when Flowey snickered. 

It was a burst of flavor and she hummed in satisfaction. 

"Wow," she murmured as she reached for a napkin. Sans grinned in triumph and leaned against the refrigerator. 

"Pretty great right?" He asked. She nodded and licked her lips as the heat began to settle in. 

"Oh my God," she said as her lips and mouth began to burn. Her eyes watered and she laughed. Sans couldn't help the wide grin growing on his face. Something about seeing her like this was adorable and warmed his soul. 

"I told you, _face melting,"_ he said as she panted and fanned her mouth. 

_"Oh, bordel de merde,"_ she breathed as her mouth watered and drool slipped down her chin. She quickly wiped it away and Sans chuckled. _Holy shit, who gave her the right to be that cute? This was a good idea. Good job, Sans. Good job._ He mentally gave himself a pat on the back. 

"Oh these are good but holy shit, _hot,"_ she panted. He nodded and grabbed one for himself. 

"The ranch helps—"

"—Give that to me!" She snatched it away and dunked her chicken in it. He threw his head back in laughter. This was nice. He didn't know how much he had craved this. She was honestly so fun to be around. 

The door slammed open and Sans flinched at the arrival of his brother. _Oh shit, this kitchen is filthy._ He thought frantically. Frisk glanced over her shoulder as Papyrus made his way into the kitchen. He froze, his eyes searching the mess before landing on Sans. 

"Brother… put that away, I need to speak with you. Now. _Alone."_ He said in a chilling voice. Frisk furrowed her brow and glanced at Sans. His skeletal grin almost seemed to fade. 

"Is something wrong?" He asked. Papyrus eyed Frisk before he growled at the state of the kitchen. 

“No. Human, clean this up at once,” he ordered. Sans sighed and shared an irritated look with Frisk, before he followed his brother outside. Frisk glanced at Flowey, who’s eyes were narrowed in thought. She remembered the way Papyrus had looked at her and she felt her heart sink. 

She raced to the foyer and looked out the window as Sans and Papyrus argued amongst themselves. Papyrus glanced back and caught her in his sight. He grasped Sans’s arm and the two were swallowed in red-orange smoke. The next moment they were gone. 

She swallowed and sunk into herself as her thoughts turned dark. What could they possibly be talking about? Was it about her? Did it have something to do with the meeting Papyrus went to? What had happened? 

_—Meow._ Frisk glanced up as Arial blinked at her. She let out a sigh and held out her hand. The shade purred and rubbed against her. She tried not to think about what had just transpired… what Papyrus was discussing. She couldn’t help but have the nagging thought that they were talking about her. Would they hurt her? No… no they… Would they? Had she forgotten just how dangerous they were?

She glanced at the hot wings and swallowed as she recalled the warmth she had just experienced. The way _he_ had looked at her like she was the best thing to have ever graced his life. He had made a promise to her, that he wouldn’t hurt her, that she would be safe. He said he never broke his promises, but… why should she trust him? Why did she _want_ to trust him? 

⁂

  
  


Papyrus marched away from Sans as they appeared in his sentry station. Sans jerked away from him and smoothed out his shirt. 

“Now what the fuck was that about?” He growled as he made sure all of the electronics were off so no one would listen in on them. As always, cameras and mics were booted down. Papyrus sighed and drummed his fingers on the desk. 

“I apologize for _ruining your moment_ with the human as you so delicately put it but… this is important,” he said. Sans sighed in exasperation. He was still covered in flour and egg. Papyrus eyed him with annoyance. 

“You’re filthy,” he grumbled. Sans rolled his eyes and sat in his chair. _Great._

“What’s the big deal?” He asked. Papyrus paused for what felt like hours as the cogs in his head turned a million miles per second. How would he go about doing this? He eyed Sans and the chunks of egg shells and flour. He seemed to be growing fond of the human… the idea was almost laughable, because Papyrus recalled being accused of that exact notion just two months ago. How the tables had turned. He only hoped that wasn’t the case. 

“Do you recall when we first captured the human? How we said we would keep her until we found something of use she could do?” He asked, his voice hardly audible as he chose his next words very carefully. Sans narrowed his eyes. Where was this going?

“Yeah..?” He murmured, shooting his young brother a puzzled glance. Why were they digging up that ancient history? That was ages ago. Sans could feel something in his soul start to sink as a dark thought formed in his mind. 

“Well… I have realized her soul’s… _potential,”_ said Papyrus. Sans’s soul seemed to fall to his feet as he realized just what his brother meant by that. 

“What?” He asked dumbly. Papyrus narrowed his eyes as he studied his brother. He needed to choose his next words very carefully. He knew his brother like the back of his hand. 

“Remember the first purge… the Grim epidemic… do you remember what you promised me the day we watched our mother turn to dust?” He practically whispered. Sans clenched his jaw at the memory. How could he forget?

“I… that I would do whatever it took to make sure we never felt weak again,” he said as he swallowed his dread. Papyrus nodded. 

“Something happened at the meeting… and I feel the last step we need to take is growing… close enough to touch. I need to replace Undyne as general, Sans. That is the only way I can… end the purges,” he said. Sans’s eye lights flickered out as he came to the dreadful understanding of what that meant. 

“Frisk…”

“The human is the ticket to becoming General,” said Papyrus with a firm nod. Sans drew in a breath, and in a second, his soul was dashed to smithereens. He could practically feel himself turning to dust right then and there. _No...no, no,_ no! He balled his hands into fists. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t turn the human in that would… they would be betraying her. She would be mortified. She would _never_ forgive him. He had promised too. He had promised he would never hurt her. He promised that sweet old woman that he would look after her. 

Then another thought surfaced in his mind. Why did he care so much? She was a human. She… shouldn’t have mattered that much. She was their prisoner, or she had been. That’s what it was supposed to be like… but he realized just how much he didn’t want to let her down. Especially not after today. God the way she had looked at him. Those eyes… 

“I can’t… I can’t do that to her…” he said, almost under his breath. Papyrus furrowed his brow and shot his brother a withering look. 

“What do you mean? You were the one who told me not to get attached. You were the one who wanted to kill her, or have you forgotten? What is wrong with you?” He spat. Sans shook his head and got up, pacing the office. 

“Why did...why do you have to be General? Why isn’t anything you have right now good enough?” He growled. Second best. Papyrus stammered at the question. 

“It’s not about me, Sans. Undyne is close to the King. I want to put a stop to his tyranny, and I can’t do that with her in my way,” he said. Sans growled and shot him an icy glare. 

“Yeah that’s exactly what it’s about. It has _nothing_ to do with your superiority complex or anything like that,” he spat. He felt like throwing up. The world was crumbling out from under him. It had been so long since he had felt like this, he thought he wouldn’t have to again. He thought he had shielded himself of these bullshit emotions. He really thought he was… and then she had wormed her way into his soul. He didn’t know if he could handle the sheer betrayal she would feel, the hatred for him she would have. Those eyes. He remembered the look of pure hate she had in those eyes when he had first known her. He didn’t know if he could handle that look now. Things were going good too. He didn’t know why it mattered to him. It shouldn’t have, but it _did._

Then…Papyrus. Papyrus would ruin that. It shouldn’t have made him as enraged and shaken as he felt just then. He should've been excited and pleased to help his brother. He had, after all, promised to do anything for him; to do anything it took. 

“You… I can’t believe you. You've fallen for the human's charms! You've done the very thing you swore you wouldn't do… you've done the very thing you accused _me_ of doing!" Said Papyrus. Sans grit his teeth, shaking his head at the notion. That wasn't true. He hadn't fallen for Frisk. Or… had he? He melted anytime she smiled at him. He was happy anytime she laughed. Today in the Capitol had been frustratingly perfect… had he gone soft for her? Had he always had a soft spot for her? If he recalled correctly… she was the only person who had actually made him feel bad for hurting her. Made him want to change for the better despite his better judgement. 

"I think we're way past that, everyone knows her already. She's Moxie Valentine. We can't just… we'd be in so much shit… not only that but you said yourself we couldn't let Asgore have another soul," he breathed. Papyrus shook his head. 

"I've thought it all through. You just have to trust me. This is what we've been working for. Don't lose sight of what matters because one _human_ wormed her way into your soul," he said softly, almost sympathetically. As if Papyrus was the sane one here. Sans shot his brother a withering look. 

"She didn't…" but even he wasn't convinced. Papyrus tilted his head, a sorrowful look flickering on his face. 

"Surely brother, you haven't grown attached to her. You of all people know the sacrifices our mission of vengeance takes," he said. Sans chuckled wryly and rubbed his head in growing anxiety. He needed to throw up. 

"I just don't understand why it's always _me_ who sacrifices something!—"

"—You don't think I've given up anything either!?—"

"—You're the lieutenant! You have everything you've ever wanted!—"

"—I have to be the one standing side by side with the King! With that murderer! It's not about us, and what we want, it's about what's for the greater good! _This_ is the greater good!" Snarled Papyrus. Sans backed up, his teeth bared. As Papyrus loomed over him, he sighed and shook his head. His last resort… 

"I made a promise—"

"—To _me,_ Sans. You made a promise to me. To _yourself._ Is Frisk really more important to you than your own brother?" So he was playing that card. Sans slammed his hands against the counter. They stood in silence for what felt like a lifetime. Sans ran through every possible outcome in his head. None of them good.

With a low, resolved sigh, he turned to Papyrus, his eyes pitch black. His soul was crumbling in on itself as he came to a conclusion. A soul shattering conclusion. A conclusion that shouldn't have pained him that much. 

"You're more important…" he practically whispered. Papyrus leaned back, a flicker of pride and satisfaction on his face. He knew his brother would come through for him. He had always pulled through.

"I'm glad we're at an agreement," he said solemnly. Sans glared at him, his teeth clenched so hard they might've broken. 

"When?" He murmured. Papyrus sat back, a small smirk growing on his face now that his brother was on board. 

"The thirty-first of this month. At the Equinox Masquerade," he said. Sans eyed him calculatively. Always one for the dramatics, wasn't he? 

"Why so late? Why not now?" He sighed. He knew if Frisk stayed around him any longer it would make this whole ordeal so much harder. Knowing he would have to look at her every day with knowledge he'd be turning her in… It would destroy him. Those big brown eyes… 

"I'll need to grow closer to the king, really butter him up, so that once we deliver the human to him, he'll… well, you get the idea," he said. Sans nodded slowly. He needed a drink. 

"…I think… I'm gonna go to Grillby's," he uttered. Papyrus glanced up at him and swallowed back his disgust for the bar. He knew his brother was going to need time to think. 

"Of course," he said, but Sans was already gone. Papyrus nodded curtly and stood up. His plan would be set in motion. He was no longer going to be second to Undyne Leviathan. 

⁂

Frisk sat in her room, her hands clutching what felt like a relic. A red hourglass burned into her eyes as she mulled over the possibilities of Papyrus and Sans's _conversation._ What could they have possibly been speaking about? 

_If you ever need a friend…_

She swallowed and quickly shoved Muffet's business card in her pocket when her door slid open. Her heart jumped into her throat as Papyrus walked in. 

"Where's Sans?" The question was almost impulsive. He glanced behind his shoulder. 

"At Grillby's…thank you for cleaning the kitchen," he said. Was that all he wanted to say? She got up from her bed. That may have been it for him, but she had questions, damnit! She would get them answered. 

"What was that about? What did you… Is everything… ok?" She asked. Papyrus smiled easily and nodded. 

"Of course. It was just… the Purge is coming up. You couldn't even begin to understand what we've been through and… I'd prefer if you weren't around to see Sans explode. Everything is fine now, though. You needn't worry," he said. Frisk crumbled with relief and she sat on her bed. She wanted so badly for that to be true. She didn't know why… she had never let herself trust anyone. However, not trusting was so hard and exhausting. 

Damian was out of her life and… she wanted to be happy. Whether she could really do that down here in the Underworld or not was another story, but she could at least try. Things had gotten so… nice. _You shouldn't trust them for a second. They could do anything to you._

She looked up at Papyrus and smiled hesitantly at him. He smiled back at her and the two wished each other goodnight. She couldn't help but feel like something was off. As she lay in her bed and closed her eyes, that red hourglass burned through the back of her eyelids; some kind of warning to what was to come. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I give you fluff... And then I take it away. 
> 
> Up Next: Sans gives Frisk the cold shoulder.


	26. Absence

Chapter Twenty-Six: Absence

* * *

After work, Frisk made a pit stop at Bonnie’s shop. She waved to Bon as she went to look through the clothes. Bonnie smiled after her, happy that the little woman was finally standing on her own two feet for the most part. Frisk’s mood, however, was much darker. She was trapped in her thoughts as she rummaged through the racks. She hadn’t seen Sans all week. He left the house early and didn’t come home until very late. It was almost like he was intentionally avoiding the house. Or maybe… maybe he was avoiding _her. Why do you care? It shouldn’t matter where he was. He’s an adult, he can do what he wants._

“Hey there, Moxie,” greeted Bonnie when she noticed Frisk’s uncharacteristically melancholic mood. Frisk glanced up, eyes sparkling past her mask. That mask was starting to suffocate her. She hated the fact she had to lie to people like Bonnie and Charlotte. 

“Hi there,” she said. Bonnie frowned and leaned over the counter as she studied her. Frisk pursed her lips. Sans’s absence shouldn’t have been getting to her. it certainly shouldn’t have made her standoffish towards her friends. She rolled her shoulders back and smiled. 

“How has your day been?” She asked. Bonnie shrugged and glanced around at the store. A little bunny monster zoomed into the room, arms spread like an airplane as he made engine noises. Bonnie nodded to him. 

“Sis’s little ones are staying with me tonight, since Archie is at a boxing tournament,” she said. Frisk glanced back at the young boy as he waved to her. She waved back and smiled softly to herself. 

“She mentioned that. Hey Nigel.” She greeted the little bunny. He grinned a buck-toothed grin and went back to playing airplane. Bonnie smiled at her. 

“So, was today a shopping kind of day?” She asked. Frisk nodded as she pulled several bras and panties that were her sizes from the rack. She put them on the counter and Bonnie chuckled to herself in understanding. It was always nice to have new underwear. 

“Putting that paycheck to good use, aren’t you?” She asked. Frisk nodded, giggling softly to herself. Being in Bonnie’s presence melted away her sour mood as she was reminded of the friends that surrounded her. 

“You bet. Sans took me to the bank on Tuesday, and I’m finally getting around to spending my hard earned cash…” she trailed off at the reminder of her time in the Capitol. Bonnie picked up on her change of tone immediately. 

“What’s bugging you, suga?” She asked. Frisk shook her head as she flipped through her gold and counted out the appropriate amount to pay for the garments. 

“Oh, it’s nothing really—”

“—I highly doubt that. You don't spend forty years of your life being a sister and an aunt without knowing a thing or two. _Something_ is wrong. Come on, you can tell Auntie Bon, right Nigel?” The little boy nodded with a hum of agreement. She chuckled and waved for him to go to the back. Frisk sighed in resolve. 

“It’s stupid… I just feel like… things have been getting really strange between Sans and I. Don’t… Don’t tell anyone, but… I don’t know. Have you seen him lately?” She asked. Bonnie eyed her and Frisk couldn’t tell if she was being judged or not. She could feel Flowey tense under her coat where he was hidden. 

“I have, actually. He’s been at Grillby’s… what do you mean when you say things have gotten strange?” Frisk could feel her cheeks burning with a bashful blush. Why had she said that? 

“I… I don’t know. Things are just different I guess,” she said. Bonnie smirked and nodded knowingly. 

“Hm… was the cologne for his brother?” She asked cryptically. Frisk tilted her head. Cologne? _Oh!_ Her eyes widened when she realized what Bonnie was talking about. 

“Is that what he said?” She asked, a small giggle escaping her. What if he was avoiding her because he too felt the shift in the wind and it scared him? That would be very like him.

Who was she to think she knew anything about how he dealt with his emotions? She _shouldn’t_ have been overthinking his behavior. She told herself that she only cared because of the oddity of Tuesday night and what Papyrus had told Sans when they were alone. It was definitely _not_ because she felt butterflies when he was around and his lack of attention or even _physical presence_ was affecting her. She wished she could digest the little fuckers. 

“I knew he was lying, that cheeky fucker…You know what? You are due for some… girl time. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be cooped up in there with those Reapers. Do you want to come over for dinner?” She asked. Frisk smiled softly at the invitation. God, she really could use the distraction. 

“I would love that. Thank you,” she said, before she frowned. Would she have to take off her mask? 

“Oh, on second thought… I don’t know. My mask—”

“—That shouldn’t be a problem honey. There’s no judgement in our house. If you want, you could take it off and have a breather—”

“—No! No it’s fine. I don’t want to take it off. I’d still love to come though and just… be around friends,” she said. A line of concern creased in Bonnie’s forehead as she studied her. Frisk shifted under the scrutiny. 

“When should I come?” She asked. Bonnie sighed and smiled again as she thought up a good time for the two. 

“I think around five. That’s usually when we have dinner,” she said. Frisk nodded and held out her hand. With that, they shook on it, bid their adieus and Frisk made her way out into the snow. 

“You sure about this?” Asked Flowey. Frisk nodded. 

“I really need to get out of the house,” she said. Flowey chuckled and shrugged helplessly. He would support her no matter what… which brought him to a new subject. 

“So what’s going on between you and… well, you know who?” He asked. Frisk pursed her lips. She didn’t know if she wanted to confide in Flowey about Sans or the strange way he made her feel. He’d probably not understand, considering his evident distaste for him. 

As she crossed the bridge, a puff of cigar smoke alerted her to the presence of another good friend of hers. He was always here right on time. A coy smile lifted her lips and she twirled over her shoulder. Doug saluted her and she giggled. 

“ ‘Ello, love,” he said. She laughed and the two fell into a pace beside each other. She glanced up at him and reached up to give his shoulder and affectionate scratch. Doug grinned and let his tongue loll out doggishly. She appreciated his friendship a great deal. As one of the only other people who knew of her humanity, she felt genuinely safe around him. Could she confide in him? She didn’t know. 

“You know you don’t have to walk me home every time, right?” She said. Doug shrugged nonchalantly and took a drag from his cigar. He held the smoke in his mouth for a moment as he mulled over what to say next. 

“Well, I’m just makin sure you don’t get attacked like you were the last time you walked home alone,” he said. There was a ringing of truth in that, and her stomach clenched at the memory. Flowey, now feeling like he had room to breath, rose from her coat. 

“Shopping?” Asked Doug as he pointed to the bag. She nodded. She was honestly so happy to have new undergarments. She only had one real bra, and a lot of bralettes. Most of the time, she didn’t even wear panties, which never really helped when she was on her period. That would change now. Of course, her periods weren’t that bad, usually they only lasted four days and she got migraines and very light stomach cramps. She easily hid them from Papyrus and Sans. 

"Just a little errand I had to run for myself," she said as she held the bag behind her back. Doug chuckled and blew out a puff of smoke. _I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down._

"Must feel good 'avin your own money. They've been kind to you, right love?" He asked, quirking his brow with gentle concern. Frisk glanced down in thought. Nowadays things seemed so odd. So docile. She really appreciated it. For too long her life was unforgiving. It was nice to be able to kick back and enjoy the domestic things like feeding monster chickens and petting a shadow cat. Making her own money with an honest day's work. Coming home to make dinner and fold laundry. Maybe even having late night philosophical conversations with one of her roommates. 

"It's actually been really nice. I know that must come as a surprise, knowing the brothers the way you do, but… I don't know. I'm starting to like it here. Big thanks to you of course," she said with a giggle. Doug beamed at the praise.

"Oh, love, you don't have to flatta' me like that," he said. She shrugged coyly and shared a look with Flowey. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Frisk combed through her wet hair, towel wrapped tightly around her body. She had just taken a steaming shower in order to get ready for her girls night. As she looked in the mirror, she smiled. 

She was still _her…_ but there was something new in her eyes. A feeling of hope and light. Elation. Her smile seemed a bit brighter, her skin a bit clearer. She was glowing. She hummed in delight and finished up before making her way to her room. Papyrus should be coming home soon, and she wanted to be dressed and ready to go once he was in. Sans should be with him too, but judging by his recent behavior, she assumed that would not be the case. _Whatever. I won't wait up on him._ She thought with a roll of her eyes. 

Frisk pulled on a pair of black pants and a tight turtleneck. She tightened her mask back around her face and fluffed her drying hair as Flowey grew out her horns once more. 

"This'll be the first time hanging out with your friends outside of business hours! Are you excited?" He asked. Frisk nodded and pulled on her coat. 

"More than excited. I love the La'Pines." _More than excited. It'll get my mind off of that bastard skeleton._ For a second she feared Flowey would read her mind. She didn't want to face his judgement at the thoughts of strange longing that ran through her subconscious. As she jogged downstairs, the mudroom door opened and she was greeted with only one brother, just as she had expected. 

"Greetings, human!" Frisk waved politely as Papyrus hung up his coat and stomped his feet on the mat to shake off the caked mud and snow. 

"Hey there. I'm going out, by the way. Bonnie and Charlotte invited me to dinner," she chirped. Papyrus eyed her skeptically and lifted his nose to study her. She shrunk under his gaze. Would he let her go? She bit her lip with anticipation. 

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" Frisk stuttered at the question. Was he going to stop her from going? What if he thought things would be dangerous for her coming home? Or maybe he just didn't want her to be out because of some weird power trip. She grit her teeth. 

"It came up this afternoon and you've been gone all day," she said meekly. Papyrus eyed her and sighed. He waved her off and nudged her aside.

"Fine, fine. Just don't stay out too late. I don't need two night owls roosting in my nest. One is enough," he grumbled. Frisk nodded with understanding and bid him adieu. 

As her boots crunched in the thin, muddy snow, she felt Flowey's eyes boring into her. 

"Yes?" She sing-songed with a nervous lilt in her voice that she hoped Flowey didn't pick up on. She knew he was clever though. He had survived this long in the underground too after all and he knew a thing or two. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong but," so he was giving her the benefit of the doubt, "is there something going on between you and Sans?" She flushed at the accusation. Thank God she had the mask on. She loved this mask for that one reason. 

"How do you mean?" She asked, trying her hardest to hide the embarrassment shaking her voice. Flowey rose a skeptical brow at her. 

"Well you said so yourself to Bonnie… but I’ve noticed things too. You're staying up late on purpose. Ever since… ever since Sans saved you from Damian you've treated him differently—"

"—Well Sans has treated me differently," she said defensively. Flowey pursed his seedy lips as he studied her. 

"He's been treating you differently for a _long_ time. _You're_ the one acting different around him now. Is it because he saved you? What's going on? Before that happened you hated him with every fiber of your being," he said. Frisk shook her head. She had hated him. She had really hated him… but then he would do little things that confused that hatred. His curious gaze, the Beatles album, their early morning philosophical conversations, the night he delivered her letter and then left her Toriel's apple pie for her. She still remembered the note he had written. 

_Took care of it for you kid. Someone really cares about you._

She had never really forgiven him for his cruelties, he had never really apologized. Or had he? Maybe not vocally… maybe through his promises, through his restraint and gentleness. Had she forgiven him? She didn't know if she was ready to… but she definitely felt the urge to give him a second chance. After all, he never hurt her again after that fatal night. 

She looked back at Flowey, a glitter in her brown eyes. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't treat him differently," she said. Flowey rolled his eyes much like a teenager. She mused that he was like the little brother or the son she never had. The thought saddened her only a little. 

"Oh please. I see the way you look at each other. Ugh, especially at the Capitol. You two were this close," he held up his leaves for effect, "to sucking face," he said. She guffawed at the absurdity of his statement. 

"Flowey!—"

"—Although I don't know how you would even do that. Unless you're into biting—"

" _—Flowey arrêter ça!"_ Flowey snickered impishly. Frisk bit her lip as she mulled over his words. Was there something going on? Frisk wasn't an idiot. She was well aware of the effect she had on men. She was also aware of the lingering gazes Sans graced her. She knew she drove him crazy. But was there a chance he had an effect on _her?_

The more she thought about that notion, the more she thought about things she liked about him. That deep throaty voice that was sometimes more a growl than anything else. The way he half smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth when she said something _interesting._ The way he lifted his chin and watched her with narrowed eyes as if stepping back to figure out a puzzle. Those were all the little nuances too. She also found his stupid jokes to be enduring, and that shit eating grin that accompanied them. He was calculating and he observed things. He knew people the way she knew people, and yet they still couldn’t figure each other out. There was something strangely poetic about it. 

She knew he noticed little nuanced things about her too. Like her hidden smiles. The thought made her blush. _Would you stop it with that? That man is dangerous. He's tortured people, he's probably killed people. He tortured you! He would've killed you had it not been for his brother._ Yes he did those things. She's done things she wasn't proud of too. Didn't she deserve to be happy? _Not with him._ That inner voice was right. Not with him. _Think about how silly that is. He's a monster. You're a human. He doesn't even have flesh or blood. He's made of bones and dust. Nothing about that makes sense!_ Nothing about anything in their strange relationship made sense though… but yet… she found she craved him despite it. 

"Onto another subject, do you feel safe walking back home in the evening?" A shudder went down her spine at the reminder of what had happened _last time_ she had walked home at night. But Damian was dead. 

"I think it'll be alright. I mean really if it weren't for Damian, I would've made it home perfectly fine," she said. Flowey nodded. 

"I suppose you're right about that," he murmured. Frisk chuckled and nodded. Thank God he had changed the subject. She didn't know if she could bear thinking about Sans the Skeleton any longer. 

It wasn't long before they arrived at Bonnie's home. It was a charming little cottage on the edge of Snowden. She used to live above her shop, but moved after a man from Grillby's broke in one night. She had decided that living apart from that seedy bar across the street was a much better investment. Part of her was thinking of renting the space out. When Frisk had heard about it, the thought had crossed her mind. That wouldn't work however. She was still a human and living with the brothers was the best thing right now when it came down to it. Or was it? Frisk knew she could make it on her own if she so wanted to. Did she really want to live across from Grillby's though? 

"Hey suga! Come on in," greeted Bonnie. Frisk smiled underneath the emotionless mask and jogged inside. She shrugged her coat off and hung it up. She was immediately hit by the smell of vanilla candles and the underlying earthy odor of mixed fruits and vegetables. It smelled a lot like the back of a produce section of a grocery store, or perhaps a house that juiced too much. The smell was only slightly nauseating, but she tried to push it to the back of her mind and focus on the faces in front of her. 

"Thank you for having me," she said. Lola and Nigel raced into the room, almost tripping over one another to see Frisk first. 

"Ms. Valentine! Ms. Valentine!" Called the two siblings. Bonnie chuckled as she made her way to the kitchen. 

"Hey there kiddos," crooned Frisk as Lola hugged her around the thighs. She was glad she was still taller than a four year old monster. Nigel was almost half her size. She was so small in this monsters' world. 

"You can take your mask off, we won't judge the scars," said Lola. Nigel hit her on the arm. She promptly whined at the thwack she had received. 

"I'd prefer to keep it on, thank you," said Frisk kindly. She wasn't mad at Lola at all. She didn't have any scars to be ashamed of, just… _humanity._

"I heard Archie has a boxing tournament today," she said as the children led her into the kitchen. Bonnie nodded somberly. 

"They keep getting more and more dangerous. I just hope he doesn't decide to sell himself to the Arena in the Core. Those fights are brutal. Especially around this time of year," she said. Frisk nodded along. 

"I'm sure he won't be stupid about it," she said in reassurance. Bonnie shrugged cooly as she dished out dinner. It was a vegetarian dinner. Vegetable stew and homemade bread. How quaint. Frisk smiled at the memory of her father. He used to make vegetable soup for her all the time. The memory of her father however, dampened her mood. It had been six years since she had last seen him. She had never called or written either. Too ashamed. Too afraid. Perhaps if she wasn't trapped in the Underworld she might've reached out. 

"I'm not going into boxing. I want to be a ballerina!" Swooned Lola as she clumsily twirled on her big, floppy feet. Nigel cackled at the notion, but Frisk found it to be extremely heart warming. 

"Where are you goin' to learn to dance, dumby?—"

"—Nigel, we don't call our family _dumbies."_ Said Bonnie sternly. Frisk frowned at the boy's words. 

"You want to be a ballet dancer?" She asked, the notion touched her soul. Bonnie nodded and set the bowls down on the table. 

"Yes, but the only dance school is in the core and it's much too expensive for us," she said mournfully. Lola frowned and glanced down at her soup. 

"Yeah she watches Mettaton on the TV, but Mettaton can't even dance in his stupid, box body," grunted Nigel. Bonnie yanked his ear lightly in warning and the boy shrunk under the glare of his auntie. Frisk scrunched her nose. She didn't believe anyone could learn anything from that Propaganda machine. What if… 

"I could teach you, if you really want to learn," she offered. Bonnie glanced up in shock. 

"Oh you don't—"

"—Really!?" Lola's eyes widened to the size of golf balls at Frisk's suggestion. She looked from Frisk to her auntie, a large smile growing on her face. 

"You can really teach me?" She asked. Frisk shrugged and looked at Bonnie, who smiled at her. 

"I used to dance. I was in ballet until I was sixteen, but it's still engraved in my muscle. Do you think Charlotte would be ok with that?" She asked. Bonnie shrugged. 

"I don't see why she would be against it. She's been trying to get Lola into dance classes for awhile now because the little princess is obsessed with Dance Dance Bot," she said. Frisk couldn't help but smile as she swirled her spoon in the stew. 

"That would be so fun Ms. Valentine!" Said the little girl, her peach colored ears rising with piqued interest. Nigel rolled his little eyes. 

"Oh brother," he grumbled, but even he was smiling at his little sister. Frisk grinned. It would certainly give her more to do. She could really start exercising again, and… _and_ it would get her mind _off_ of Sans. Curse him for taking up so much of her thoughts. 

"I'll see if we can set something up with Charlotte when she gets back from Hotland with Archie," said Bonnie with a wink. Frisk smirked back and glanced at Lola. It had been so long since she had let herself dance again. This would be an amazing experience. Finally she'd be putting all that knowledge and skills to good use instead of leaving it up to collect dust while she wasted the rest of her life cleaning. 

When dinner was over, Frisk stayed over longer after the children went to bed. Bonnie and her lay on the couch, a cup of wine in the demoness's hand. 

"The kids love you. Everyone likes you so much, you have this energy. How do you do it?" She asked. Frisk shrugged, a small smile growing on her lips. 

"I don't know… I guess I just treat people kindly," she said. Bonnie chuckled and nodded. 

"I guess that does the trick right?" She murmured. Frisk turned over on her stomach and eyed Bonnie. 

"You and Charlotte are honestly the lights of the community though. If it weren't for you and your family, Snowden would be in a much worse state," she said. Bonnie smiled sadly at the notion and shrugged. 

"We're all trying our best… but thank you, suga'," she said with a wink. Frisk sighed and lifted herself up from the couch. 

"I can't wait to start teaching Lola how to dance." Bonnie hummed with delight and the two giggled together. 

"I never knew you could dance," she said. Frisk nodded matter-of-factly. Thirteen years of ballet. She wondered if she was still good at it. It was engraved in her muscle memory, but was she as flexible anymore? She hadn't tried to do a split in years. She did all that yoga, perhaps she would still have it in her. 

"Wanna see some? Here." She got up from the couch and gestured for Bonnie to watch her as she stood in the open living room. Bonnie watched with fascination as Frisk lifted her shoulders and a lightness seemed to raise her from the ground. Fluid grace filled her limbs as she did the simplest of steps. A basic pas de bourrées, followed by a half spin. She lighted back down and pirouetted almost out of second nature. 

Bonnie gave her a small round of applause as Frisk came to sit back down. 

"That's so sweet. Where did you study?" She asked. Frisk shrugged. How would she explain? No one could be self-taught at Ballet. Not really. She dug through what she knew about tieflings and took up her knowledge on their unfortunate culture. 

"You don't know this but… I feel comfortable telling you. There was a point in my life when I was a slave to an old Noble back in Hotland. He owned a dance house and I learned from the dancers in that hall when I wasn't cleaning," she lied. She could almost feel Flowey writhe at the bold-faced tall-tale. She really did hate fibbing to Bonnie and Charlotte, but every time she did, she told herself she didn't have a choice. 

She watched as Bonnie nodded slowly as she came to an understanding. 

"It's really unfortunate what they did to your kind," she said solemnly. Frisk nodded and shrugged. She personally had no connection to tieflings, but she felt a strange kinship with her alter ego. There was something about the tieflings that resonated with her. Both tossed away like unwanted dolls in a harsh, judgemental society. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


The two conversed quietly together before Bonnie realized it was growing close to ten o'clock. _Shit, I need to get back!_ Frisk grabbed her coat and the two friends said their goodbyes. 

Walking through Snowden at night proved no better than last time. Bonnie had told her that the safest street was the back road behind the Shop since most predators that hung around the bar didn't go past Grillby's street. The only soul she stumbled across on the little side street was a homeless monster warming himself by a trashcan fire. Her heart went out to him and she dug through her purse. 

The old man's eyes, the only thing she could see on his cloaked and hooded body, rose to meet hers as she handed him a few spare gold. Those eyes glittered graciously. 

"Thank you... May the Angel bless you in these dire times, _tralala..." he_ said quietly, as if it was their little secret. Something about those words chilled her and she nodded before quickly making her escape. She tried not to think too long about what he had said. The Angel? 

"You never fail to amaze me…" murmured Flowey. She flinched at the sound of his voice, having been so strung up in her own thoughts, she had practically forgotten his existence. She glanced back at him and shrugged. 

"He looked like he needed a good jacket…Did you hear what he said?" She asked. Flowey nodded knowingly.

"He speaks of the Angel in the prophecy," he mused. Frisk tilted her head in curiosity, and one look from those shimmering eyes were enough to make Flowey continue. 

"It's said that an Angel who has seen the surface will descend and free the monsters from their imprisonment. Of course… a lot of people have lately decided that the Angel is actually the Angel of Death and… there's really no other escape besides… Well, you know. I think that's why people embraced the kill or be killed life," he explained. A shudder went down Frisk's spine at the grim thought. 

"I still don't understand the kill or be killed thing. Sans never finished explaining it," she murmured. Flowey nodded. 

"Well… basically, if someone has something that you want, you're allowed to kill them for it. It used to be more prevalent in the early days when the act first came out. People I guess… grew a bit tired of it. Now it's just a mindset that haunts us. A lot of more powerful monsters had the upper hand. Monsters like Reapers and Baphomets. People ended up calming down. As it turns out, people get tired of constant violence being shoved down their throats. Now really only the higher ups follow the _rule."_ Frisk nodded along. The description sent her stomach reeling. 

They trudged through the woods along the road. She felt a shiver crawl down her spine at the memory of Damian. Still, she couldn't let him keep ruining her life. He was gone. Besides, she was happy tonight. She had a wonderful time with Bonnie and the La'Pine children. She was going to teach Lola how to dance. Nothing else made her feel as elated about herself than that notion. She'd be doing something _good._

This time, as she came upon the farmhouse, no gun clicked behind her and she was free to breathe easy as she jogged up the porch stairs. She opened the door quietly, so as not to disturb anyone who might have been sleeping. 

All the worries that accompanied the God Forsaken house crashed back into her as soon as she slipped past the front door. Was Sans here? Had she left the bathroom light on? Would Papyrus be mad she was home so late? _Was Sans here?_

She sighed and she closed the door behind her as softly as humanly possible. That was when she heard the gentle _clink_ of a glass from the kitchen. Her breath hitched in her throat and she glanced at Flowey. He pursed his lips as she peeled off her coat, mask and gloves. Flowey hung back on the coat rack as she crept forth. A flood of anxiety crashed against her, and a stone seemed to form in her stomach as she made her way to the kitchen. Why was she so terrified? 

As she rounded the corner, none other than Sans the Skeleton was rummaging through the fridge. She watched with bated breath as he pulled out a jug of tea and poured it into the glass. He looked absolutely beat with exhaustion, and he smelled like sulfur, which indicated he had been in Hotland for a while. When he turned, glass in hand, he locked eyes with Frisk and seemed to tense. It was almost like watching someone turn into ice on fast forward. He looked absolutely mortified, as if he was staring into the face of a dead loved one found face down in the gutter. The look was unsettling, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. He sipped his tea. 

"Hey…" murmured Frisk as she pushed herself off from the wall and made her way into the dim kitchen. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. It was almost like she was some kind of wild animal and he was scared she would attack him. 

"Sup," he grunted hoarsely. She glanced over her shoulder. The house was completely dark if not for the blot of light in the kitchen. She looked back up at him. 

"Where have you been? It feels like I haven't seen you in forever," she muttered, hardly audible, as if she herself was unsure of the words spewing out of her mouth. She didn't know why he had that effect on her. Something about him just made her want to talk. 

"Aren't ya happy? Not seeing me is a blessing sweetheart," he spat. Her heart sank at the words. She couldn't tell if it was a blow to her, to him, or a warning. 

"I guess I just got used to you. Now you're not here anymore," she said softly, almost like she was scared to admit that. He looked back at her, a hesitant gentleness flickering in his eyelights. What could he possibly be thinking? Why didn't she seem to understand him at all? Why did he have to be such a puzzle? It was as if one moment she thought she had figured him out, and then the next he pulled something else and completely jumbled up her idea of him. 

"Got used to me… huh…" he murmured as he stared down at his tea. She pursed her lips. What was she supposed to say to him? What did she want from him? Why did it feel like she needed him? More importantly, why was he any different from the other men in her life? 

"Why are you gone all the time?" _Is it because of me?_ That selfish part of her whispered in her ear. Sans eyed her, and for a second she thought he had heard the thought and was judging her for it. 

Sans sighed a long, resolved sigh as he looked out the kitchen window. Why was he avoiding her eyes? There was something guarded in him that made him feel galaxies away. This encounter was nothing like the times she had usually shared with him at these hours. 

"Work." The simple answer felt like a slap to the face. She didn't know why she wanted more from him. She hated how disappointed she felt at that moment. She didn't feel like she was in the same room as him. He felt miles away. 

"Oh… well… um, goodnight," she murmured, her voice almost giving out. She turned away, and part of her wanted so desperately for him to stop her. Call out her name, sigh, tell her to wait… _something._

He didn't. He didn't do any of those things. _What were you expecting? He's_ Sans. _What, were you expecting him to twirl you in his arms? Grow up. Remember who he is. Remember what you've gone through. No one will ever love you the way you want them to. No one will_ love _you. Especially not him. You don't want that. You don't need that. You don't need anything._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The pining, the sexual tension... it's too strong. It's gonna burst. 
> 
> Up Next: Sans tries to distract himself.


	27. Disappointing Distractions

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Disappointing Distractions

* * *

_Lydia stood in front of the window as it rained. Normally it didn't rain in Snowden. The times were changing however. She could feel it in her marrow. The delicate skeleton stood at that window like a painting. Her skull was wrapped in a black headscarf that hung down her shoulders; a crown._

_Indeed, she had always presented herself like royalty, and in Sans's mind, she_ was _a queen. Her fanged smile grew a bit wider and she turned to see her son watching her with a calculative look in his eyes._

_"Need something?" She asked. He shook his head and propped himself off the wall. He was a lot like his father in that way. Nuanced. Observant._

_"Nope… whatcha' lookin' at?" He asked as he came to join her at the window. Lydia traced the rain as it slid down the window._

_"Time passing," she said cryptically. Both Lydian and W.D Gaster had a terrible habit of being cryptic in everything they said and did. It was a curse that accompanied scientists of the Royal crown. Or maybe it was a curse that only accompanied the Gasters._

_"Right…" he murmured as he watched the rain patter on the snow. It felt strange. Usually it only rained in Waterfall. Time passing._

_"There'll come a time when you're going to have to make decisions. Hard decisions. I won't be there to help you make them," she said somberly. Sans swayed on his feet and tapped the window sill. What did she mean by that? He had no idea what was to come next. The epidemic… the Purge. The dust that haunted him in his dreams. He looked back up at her._

_"What decisions?" She didn't answer for a long time until finally, she looked down at him. Her red eye lights were snuffed out. That always sent a chill up his spine._

_"Decisions between doing what's right and doing what's wrong," she said. Sans avoided that abyssal gaze and stared out at the rain._

_"How would I know what's the right decision?" He asked. Lydian shrugged and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. He looked back up at her. Her face was flooded with the unconditional love of a mother trying to protect and nurture her young. It was almost like she knew. She_ knew _that she would be taken from him._

_"It'll be the hardest thing to do. It's easy to do wrong things, but it's hard to do the right thing. That's when you'll know. I hope you choose to do what's right. If not for yourself, then for me." Those words stuck with him for a long time._

⁂

  
  


Sans had never felt more shitty and depressed in his life. Doug was the first person to notice it. He didn't ask any questions or offer him any comfort. Not that Sans thought he deserved comfort. Doug chalked it up to the Purge. Sans always got a little depressed during the Purge. 

What Doug didn't know, and probably for the best, was that it went way deeper than usual seasonal depression. Sans was _mortified_ over what he'd have to do to Frisk. Papyrus had made him choose, so of course he had chosen his brother. He couldn't even bring himself to be in the same house as her. Not when she was awake anyway. 

One time he had come home from his late night gallavants and she had been asleep on the couch. His soul stung with the knowledge that she had waited up on him. He had half the mind to take her back to her room. However, in these times he had enormous restraint. He wasn't drunk or pissed off, and therefore he had the ability to compose himself. He shied away like some kind of cockroach to light. 

That was often how she made him feel. Like some kind of insect. Sometimes he wondered how he made her feel. Probably confused, angry and frustrated. She had gotten past being scared. He should've never allowed her to feel anything but fear for him. Now look at them. What were they even doing? How had he allowed himself to slip this far into this maddening infatuation? 

It wasn't her fault, either. Sans knew that all the blame rested on his shoulders and… maybe Papyrus's too. 

To make matters worse, he had failed in his efforts to avoid her. There she had been in the kitchen, haloed in subtle golden light. Seeing her had sent him spiraling to a mixture of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was beautiful and he could feel his soul flicker with that craving he had for her company. On the other… she was dead. _Metaphorically._ Looking at her only reminded him of that. Of the horrors she'd face because of _him._

She had sounded hurt. Actually hurt, and he didn't understand. Why would she feel hurt that he'd been gone? Maybe she felt the way he felt. He'd be crazy to actually think that, especially now. 

When she had asked why he was gone all the time now, he had wanted to say a lot of things. 

_This house has too many reminders of how much of a failure I am._

_Just behind a few of these doors are all my mother's memorabilia and I know how disappointed she must be in me nowadays._

_You're here and I can't look at you without feeling my soul implode._

_I don't know what to feel about you and everything is so complicated you couldn't even begin to understand._

Or maybe she could. He couldn't get her out of his head. Granted, ever since she had walked into his life, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head. Those big brown eyes… 

The Purge would be happening soon. It was just… _one_ week away. And then the Equinox Masquerade. It was too soon and yet too far away.

Part of him wished he could stay in a bubble. A time bubble where it was just him and Frisk, with no worries. They could just be. They could _talk._ She was just so real and everything she said had a weight to it. It was like everything she said was for him and only him. She was calculating and smart and insightful. She was sweet and funny too. 

Part of him wanted to explore every bit of her, really get to know her and who she really was. But that would take a lifetime… and he was an idiot if he thought he had that with her. He knew he shouldn't have wanted that so badly. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, everything he _cherished_ was stripped away from him. He had learned that the hard way, so why was he stupidly falling for it all over again? 

Papyrus would have his way, and there was nothing Sans could or… _would_ do to stop it, no matter how much it killed him. 

He really needed to get his mind off of it. Off of _her._

As he sat in his patrol office, he made the decision to go to Grillby's. It wouldn't be the first time. He needed to distract himself. Whether it be by booze or… other things. He just needed to stop thinking about _her_ for five seconds or else he was going to _lose_ his mind. 

Once his shift ended, he shrouded himself in his red smoke and arrived at the back of the bar. He hated teleporting in public places. There was always a chance that someone could see the smoke form and attack as he walked through. It had happened to Papyrus before, when he first joined the royal guard. It was one of the many reasons he preferred not to use his powers unless absolutely necessary. 

Sans just took precautions. He sauntered out from the alley and glanced around. It was rather late. He should've been home by now, but Papyrus wasn't begrudging him the late night gallavants. He understood the space Sans needed. For once. 

He didn't understand why Papyrus was so at ease about this business. It must've been his selfishness. He must've been so blinded by power, or whatever excuse he had drummed up, that he thought not of the destruction he would leave in his wake. 

Sans shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind as he entered the club. There would be no room for brooding. 

He glanced over to see Dakota sitting at the lounge, watching Sissy grind the hot pink pole. Sans felt queasy. That part of this gutter had never been his favorite. He usually stayed at the bar. 

Sometimes when he was really drunk he would watch, but only because it was _right_ there in his face. When he was sober however, he could almost feel his mother's disapproving glare. He often came here to escape it. Now he came here to escape another woman's eyes. 

"Sans, back so soon?" Asked Grillby as he shook up Sans's usual drink, what Grillby liked to call the Mustard Cocktail. Tequila, St-Germain elderflower liqueur and fennel-scented yellow Chartreuse. Mustard seeds lined the glass edges. It was musky and bittersweet, and it was the only drink that Sans tolerated. 

"It's going to be a tough Spring," he said matter-of-factly. Grillby shrugged insensitively. 

"Good for business," he said with a smirk. Sans shot a withering look at him. 

"You're sick," he growled under his breath. Grillby chuckled, his laughter sounding like the hissing pop of fire. 

"No more sick than you, _Sans the Skeleton,"_ he murmured as he slid the jar to him. Sans downed it with ease and Grillby quickly readied another one. 

"How's that… tiefling of yours doing?" He asked. Sans growled as he grabbed the next glass and drank. God, could they talk about literally anything else? 

"Jesus, Grillby, he doesn't want to talk about that _infernal,"_ crooned a feminine voice. Sans clenched his jaw. He knew that voice all too well. Grillby shot a look at the peach bunny, Alice. 

"She's right, I don't," he grunted as he gestured for another glass. Grillby obliged with a shake of his head. Alice's ears perked up and she sat next to him, as if him agreeing with her was some kind of an invitation. It wasn't… but he was too depressed to push her away. 

"You're coming around a lot more often than usual, Sans," she said as she leaned on her hand. He didn't spare her a look, merely running his thumb along the edges of the cocktail.

How many more of these to get completely wasted? Around six usually did the job if he remembered correctly. It would take him a second to feel the effect, but it would come full force. 

"I've missed you. I know what they say about you, but I don't care. I know that you're nothing like… say, _Dakota,"_ she spat as she leaned in and handed him another rocks glass. He nodded. He knew what she was doing. They had played these games before, once upon a time. He had been wrought with grief at his losses, and she was infatuated with power. Those two things usually mixed. While it was toxic, it had been momentarily satisfying. 

It was crazy to think that was just last year. _Felt like three years._ Time moved way too slow down in hell. 

"You know…" she hummed as he took another drink. He grunted and finally looked at her. Alice's ice blue eyes were locked on him, and she had gotten pretty close. 

"You look like someone who needs a distraction," she purred. He stared her down, his eye sockets narrowing. Grillby eyed Sans and winked, before he waved him off. Sans rolled his eyes. _I need a distraction… but not this. I promised myself I wouldn't do this again. Not with her._ He thought. 

It was his last sober thought. His mind grew fuzzy and her words were fading in and out. She kept talking as he hunched over the counter. 

"It must be really hard for you right now, right?" Her hands were on his back. It was no secret just how much the Purge dragged on the brothers' moods. 

"I could… maybe take some of the weight off your shoulders." He took another sip as his mind wandered. The feeling of her hands on his chest was unwanted, but he didn't make a move to stop her. There was a thought somewhere in his head that told him that he deserved Alice and not Frisk. 

"Alice… we can't do that anymore—" 

"—And why not? I like being your little slut," she whispered. Sans grimaced at the words. 

He wasn't one to pay for prostitutes. Maybe it had something to do with that black gaze of his mother from long ago. Alice had come to him, once upon a time, drawn to him by conversation and curiosity. It was before the mess with Undyne. Unlike other patrons, he usually just isolated himself at the bar. 

He himself was still getting over another loss. Friendships down the drain because of Papyrus's ambition. Not to mention the fact that Hell had a way of killing people, or dragging them into the gutter. 

Eventually their strange relationship got a bit out of control, and Papyrus barred him from going to Grillby's because he was convinced Sans was fucking around with prostitutes. He wasn't altogether wrong, but it wasn't like he was using her. But he was, wasn't he? He had realized that he had been. 

He had been using her as a distraction and she had been using him as a way of feeling powerful. After all, if you could seduce the most powerful monsters in the Underground, you had to be pretty good. He hadn't blamed her. She was one of the most vulnerable people in Snowden. He would want to feel powerful too being in her shoes. 

Apparently, she still wanted that feeling. Apparently she had never stopped wanting it. _Especially_ after he had pummeled Undyne into a dusty husk. 

"We stopped doing that a long time ago," he murmured as she rubbed his shoulders. His mind was swimming as he drank his mustard. She hummed and nodded along, a pout growing on her lips. 

"We should've never stopped. That was our biggest mistake." What had she wanted from him? Had she wanted him to get her out of Grillby's? He finished his drink and his head seemed to pound with dreariness. _Fuck it. I've already broken so many promises nowadays, what's one more?_ Alice was right. He _did_ need a distraction. Maybe fucking her would finally get his mind off of _Frisk_. Maybe that's all he needed. A good fuck. 

"You know what?" He murmured as her hands slid down his chest and she rested her head against his shoulder. His spine shivered when her hot breath tickled his neck. 

"One night couldn't hurt," he grunted as she nibbled at his neck. 

⁂

When the two got to the hotel room, Alice practically threw herself onto Sans. She pressed him against the door with reckless abandon, like she had been waiting far too long to finally get her hands on him. He groaned and leaned his head back as she bit and sucked at his neck. His hands roamed to her ass, and gave her a tight squeeze. 

She moaned and grinded on him, feeling for the swelling bulge of magic growing in his pants. His breath was hot and heavy and she hummed in delight as he nibbled her soft neck with his sharp fangs. Alice pushed off of him and giggled as she started to undress. Sans leaned against the door, running his tongue over his teeth as he watched her. 

"Like what you see?" She purred. Sans clenched his jaw and sniffed. 

"Mhm," he murmured half-heartedly as he stripped off his bomber jacket. He tossed it to the floor and kicked off his shoes as she sauntered back over to him. She had some of the sexiest lingerie on. A measly red thong and a lacey bra that did very little to hide her breasts. He almost caught himself pondering what that lingerie would look like on _her…_ _No, stop, you can't. Stop. She's… no. Just, fuck Alice. She wants you, just fuck her and forget about Frisk for five seconds._

Alice brought her hand to his crotch and gave him a gentle squeeze, their breaths hot against each other. Sans didn't fight as she pushed him onto the bed and dragged his pants down. 

He let his head roll back and closed his eyes as she ran her hand along his cock. He hissed with pleasure once she slid her tongue along his shaft and into her mouth. As her head bobbed back and forth in a desperate attempt to pleasure him, he brought his hand to her head. Her drooping peach ears twitched as he tugged lightly on them and she moaned. 

"Jesus," groaned Sans as she gripped his femurs and forced the rest of his cock down her throat. She was good. There was a reason she was the most sought after whore at Grillby's. But she had sought _him_ out. Sans couldn't deny it was a good ego trip. Not having to work hard for something like sex always kind of went to the head. Besides, he needed this. Fuck, he needed this. After the shit Papyrus pulled, he needed to get his mind _off_ of Frisk De La Noir. 

"Fuck," he murmured and she hummed at his approval. _We're two desperate fuckers._ He chuckled huskily at the shitty joke he had made to himself. He glanced down to see Alice staring up at him with big blue eyes… for a second, he imagined she was gone… and that Frisk was the one down there. _No!_

Sans panicked and pushed Alice off of him as a wave of guilt crashed over him. What was he doing? Nothing was more sobering than that. 

"Sans?" She asked with shock as he willed away his heated magic and pulled his pants back up. He was going crazy all for some human girl. No. Not some human. What was he doing? This couldn't be happening. Frisk… He hated himself. He shouldn't be using Alice to make himself feel better. Frisk would hate him if she knew what he was doing. _I shouldn't care. I shouldn't. She's… Papyrus is gonna fuck her over anyway, I shouldn't get… WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?_

"We've been down this road before, sweetheart," he grunted as he ran a hand over his skull. _Shit. I can't even fuck without moping over Frisk. I'm losing my marbles._

"Sans wait, no… is this about that stupid housekeeper of yours?" She spat. Sans clenched his jaw. He wished it wasn't, but it was. God it was. Ever since Frisk had walked into his life, he'd been enchanted by her. He didn't want to admit it to himself. All he could think about was what happened between them at the Capitol, on his roof, in the kitchen making chicken wings, and then his fucking brother.

Papyrus was so fucking selfish! He didn't see the damage he'd cause. So wrapped up in being the best. Undyne had gotten to him, his insecurities. Now Sans was going to pay because Papyrus had an ego issue. No, _Frisk_ was going to pay. Oh God. He thought he could forget about those big brown eyes for one night! 

"She's not stupid," he grumbled as he gently pushed past her and picked up his jacket. Alice frowned at him. 

"What's the matter with you? Don't tell me you have Infernal Fever—"

"—I don't have Infernal Fever—"

"—I thought you were different," she scoffed. Sans clenched his jaw as he slid into his bomber jacket. Poor Alice. She was used to being used by the bottom of the barrel. People like Sans. He scoffed. He was such an asshole. Frisk… Frisk would want more for her. 

"You thought I was different… I don't know why I agreed to this," he murmured. He never knew why Alice liked him. It wasn't like he was nice. Maybe because he was indifferent and in power. Maybe she thought that if she could get in bed with one of the more important persons in Snowden she could kiss Grillby's goodbye. Frisk would want more for her, and Sans found he was a complete sucker for what Frisk wanted. _Fuck._

Alice studied him as he leafed through his gold. She glanced up at his thoughtful, sorrowful and angry eyes as he counted silently to himself. 

"You love her, don't you?" She murmured. Sans scoffed and waved the money at her. It was more than she needed from a job like this, and even though she wasn't working right now… it just felt right. Besides, maybe she'd finally quit and do something better with her life. 

It was then her words hit him like a slap in the face. Is that how he felt about Frisk? _Did_ he love her? No... _no._ No he didn't. Absolutely not. He just… never wanted to hurt her or see her be hurt, he just wanted to make her smile, he wanted to hear her sweet laughter… 

"Love is a crock of shit. Here, she'd want you to get out of there. Get out of Grillby's," he murmured as he shoved the gold into her hands. Her eyes welled up and she swallowed a lump in her throat. Sans glanced back at her and sighed. He put his shoes back on and pocketed his wallet.

Sex wasn't going to make him feel better. If anything it was just going to make him feel worse. He spared one last look at Alice as she got dressed, nothing but confusion filling her eyes. Without another word, he turned away and left the room. Maybe he should have apologized. Sans was never one to say sorry. But maybe he should've. 

As he lumbered past the counter, he noticed Charlotte was at the desk. She glanced at him from under a guise of indifference, but he could tell she was judging him. He shifted on his feet and shook his head. 

"Nothing happened… don't tell Fri— _Moxie_ I was here," he murmured. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

"What difference would it make if she knew or not?" She asked in a bold move. He stepped back at the words. No one really talked to him like that. Everyone in this town was getting much bolder, all thanks to Frisk De La Noir. There was a jealous twinge in his soul that he wasn't the only one swayed by her. _She can't know. It would…_ What difference _would_ it make? Maybe it was better if she went back to thinking he was a deplorable demon. Something about that was crushing. The selfish part of him was too scared of that notion.

"Just… please keep your mouth shut," he growled. Charlotte swallowed her protest and sighed. 

"Fine… she won't hear a word from me… but whatever you two have going on between each other, whether it be good or bad, I suggest you air it out before it explodes in your face. And trust me, _sir,_ it will," she spat, before disappearing into her office. Sans swayed on his feet like she had just punched him in the gut and he grit his fangs. Why did it feel like the world was falling apart? 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sans is such a fuck up. Yes, pun intended. 
> 
> Up Next: Papyrus has a meeting with the King. 
> 
> If you like this story, please don't forget to leave kudos, comments or bookmarks to show your support! Xoxo~


	28. Daydreams and Nightmares

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Daydreams and Nightmares

* * *

_ Frisk felt the sun on her face. She hadn't felt real sun on her face for what felt like months. A breeze blew against her cheek and dragged through her hair like soft fingers. Was this the surface? She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. That was her house.  _

_ "Mommy! Mommy! Come here!" She sighed as the voice of a little girl wove in and out of her ears. She turned, jogged to the back yard and climbed onto the trampoline to join her daughter.  _

_ "Hey kiddo, what's up?" She asked. The little girl smiled. She was beautiful. She looked just like her. Her eyes glinted with a red light.  _

_ "I just wanted you to play with me," she said. Frisk giggled and took her shoes off.  _

_ "Oh fine." They jumped for a bit until Frisk lay sprawled on the trampoline; out of breath.  _

_ "Can I join you lovely ladies?" Frisk smiled at the voice.  _

_ "I don't think the trampoline can hold you, daddy." Frisk cackled. Her daughter had quick wit. Just like her father.  _

_ "Bullshit!—" _

_ "—Language!" He chuckled and leaned over the trampoline as Frisk turned over on her stomach to face him. She couldn't see his face. She could only hear his voice. She thought nothing of it.  _

_ "You're right, I'm sorry." She hummed as their little girl giggled and hopped on the trampoline.  _

_ "Daddy, can I show you something? I've been practicing," she said. Frisk sat up and almost seemed to lean into his arms.  _

_ "Well don't drag out the suspense." Frisk raised her hand and lightly slapped the man and he snickered under his breath. She could feel him press his mouth to her hair in a gentle kiss. This was all she could've possibly wanted… she felt so loved… who was this man? What was her daughter's name? She wanted to live in this dream forever.  _

_ As she opened her eyes, she paled.  _

_ There was a dragon skull looming behind her daughter. Smoke gathered in its mouth before it opened it's fanged jaws.  _

_ "No!" She screamed. She was vaporized in an instant. She could  _ feel the heat  _ on her skin.  _

_ But she wasn't dead… yet. She was walking through a thick cloud of black smoke. No. She wasn't walking, she was wading. Wading through black ooze. Void. She saw a door and her heart  _ skipped a beat. 

_ Frisk went to open it. She wanted out of this dream that had quickly dissolved into a nightmare.  _

_ Why was she in Sans's room? Black ooze crept down his walls. She found she couldn't breath. Her ears were filled with static. She saw Sans  _ looking back at her. His eyes widened.  _ Just above him was a looming figure. A darkness.  _

_ It turned to face her and she choked on her fear. Staring back at her was a skull. Two garish cracks crushing the opposite hemispheres of its face. It smiled widely at her and looked down at Sans who  _ looked up at him with panic in his eyes.  _ It felt so real.  _

**_"Looks like she's joined us…"_ **

  
  


⁂

  
  


Frisk bolted upright in her bed, gulping down air as if it were water. She looked over, wide eyed, at Flowey who was sleeping peacefully curled up on the bedpost. Arial crept into her room, almost as if drawn to the nightmares swimming about in her mind. She looked down and sighed as the shade jumped up onto her lap. 

"Hello there," she sighed as her fingers curled into the wisps of shadow. Arial purred and settled on her lap. There was something oddly comforting about it. 

"This one was even weirder than the other. I hope this one doesn't repeat itself…" She avoided saying the most disturbing part of it all. She'd had a daughter. It had felt so real. She glanced around the room, half expecting it to start oozing with black matter. 

"There's something awfully wrong about this place." Arial blinked as if to agree with her. Frisk settled back onto her bed and dragged the covers up to her chin. Who… or rather…  _ what _ had been that darkness in Sans's room? It didn't feel like she had belonged there. Like she had invaded a totally different nightmare. 

Unlike her last recurring dream… she remembered this one a little too closely. Every detail. The voice of that man, the husband in her dream… she recognized the voice. She didn't want to admit to herself just who it had been. Even the vague thought was enough to send her mind reeling. 

_ "Looks like she's joined us…"  _

She shuddered and turned to Arial who blinked that silver gaze back up at her. 

"It had been so real…" she whispered. Arial nodded and crept up to her forehead. Frisk blinked slowly as a blanket of exhaustion fell over her. Arial's silver eyes closed, and with them, her mind. This time, no dreams graced her subconscious. Those nightmares never made it past the hungry fangs of Arial. 

  
  


⁂

Later that day, after she had returned from work, Frisk sought comfort in her library books. She tried to keep herself busy so as not to think of the dream. Flowey sat with her in the kitchen. He was drawing, much to Frisk's delight. 

She had hung up his last piece behind her bed, and she fully planned on hanging up this one as well. He certainly had a gift. 

She and Charlotte had discussed the matter of tutoring Lola on dance, and Charlotte had been thrilled. The knowledge that she could be doing good things for the community besides playing the brothers' servant was heartwarming. A lot of the residents liked her now that they were used to her presence.  _ If only they knew.  _

She glanced up as Sans walked into the kitchen. It was almost as if his mere presence darkened the atmosphere. He must've left work early. Her heart skipped a beat and she found herself sitting up straighter. He tried not to look at her. When she caught his face, she noticed just how much his grin had turned into a skull's grimace. He looked…  _ ashamed.  _ And… something else that she couldn't exactly put her finger on. A shiver ran down her spine when his eyelights rolled over her like they usually did. He looked like he was guilty… and scared. But scared of what? 

"Look who's here; Mr. Magician and his disappearing act," grumbled Flowey. Frisk clenched her jaw as Sans grunted, he neither disputed nor agreed. He merely shrugged his shoulders and turned away. It felt like just yesterday they had been in here, breathlessly tossing baking goods at each other and laughing together. 

Without saying a word to her, he left, sandwich in hand, and made his way upstairs to his room. If this had happened the first month she had lived with the brothers she would've been relieved and probably even smug at his blatant avoidance of her. Now… she was disappointed. She couldn't tell if it was disappointment in herself and her body's betrayal of her basic beliefs, or if it was directed at Sans himself. 

Flowey eyed her from under the guise of indifference. She glanced across at him and hummed as she flipped the page in her book. She sighed when she'd had enough of his silent judgement. 

"What?" She asked. Flowey shrugged and went back to coloring his picture. Frisk bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. Why was Sans acting so ridiculously? He couldn't keep ignoring her… could he? That same sinking stone in her stomach began to weigh on her as she remembered what had transpired that fateful Tuesday night. The look Papyrus had given her. Something about that look had made her feel so utterly  _ disposable.  _

She didn't know if she could talk about it though. Papyrus joined her in the kitchen after that. 

"Good evening, Human." Frisk nodded to him in acknowledgement. Her mind was far away, and she couldn't even focus on the text she was reading. She twitched with annoyance as she found herself starting over again at the top of the page. 

"Good evening." She glanced up at him and closed her book. She wouldn't be able to get any reading done right now. Frisk studied Papyrus as he scrutinized the dishes. Was there something he was hiding? Papyrus wasn't treating her any differently though… 

"Papyrus, do you think you could get me a glass of water, please and thank you?" Asked Flowey. Frisk was relieved he was there to break the tension. Papyrus shot a withering look at Flowey, but begrudgingly filled a cup with tap water. 

"I have a meeting with the King tonight," murmured Papyrus, and honestly he had said it so quietly, that Frisk hadn't even known he was talking to her. She jumped at the realization that he was indeed speaking to her and that she needed to respond. 

"Oh? Really? About what?" She asked. Papyrus shrugged and stared down at Flowey's art, which the flower shyly hid from view. Papyrus grunted and looked back up at her with narrowed sockets. 

"What do you think?" She understood immediately and hung her head to avoid those eyes. 

"Right. Well good luck," she said. Papyrus scoffed and straightened his jacket. 

"Luck? The great and terrible Papyrus doesn't need luck… but thank you. While I am gone… if you would please brush Calibri, that would be divine," he said as he pulled on his leather gloves. Frisk frowned and looked up at him. 

"You're not taking him with you?" She asked. Papyrus shook his head. 

"I want to be in and out of there as fast as possible. Besides, Calibri requested it."  _ Calibri requested me?  _ Frisk smiled at the notion and she nodded. 

"Oh… well if Calibri insists, then I honestly have no choice  _ but  _ to follow through," she said with a wink. Papyrus nodded coldly at her, before marching out from the kitchen. She glanced at Flowey and hummed in thought. 

"Want me to come with?" He asked. Frisk glanced down at the drawing. He was coming along well. 

"No, you can stay in here. I like hanging out with Calibri," she said. He smiled at her and she waved. With that, she made her way out to the stables.

As she entered what felt like sacred ground, she instinctively bowed her head and greeted the unicorn. Calibri nodded his acknowledgement of her presence and nickered softly in greeting. She smiled and ran her hand along his side. She patted him on the rump as she got the brush. 

"You're a good listener right?" She asked. She needed to rant. She needed to just…  _ talk.  _ Talk about all the things that were bothering her. Calibri blinked slowly and dug at the ground with his cloven hoof. She took it as a yes. Frisk smiled to herself and began brushing the unicorn's pitch black body. 

"I don't know how to talk to anyone right now. Either the people I want to confide in don't know I'm a human… or are the people I don't really trust. I just feel like I'm… teetering on a tightrope. Any second there could be a gust of wind that knocks me off. You know you think you can trust someone and then they bite you when you try to reach out. It's like dealing with a bunch of feral dogs." Calibri twitched his ear as she slid the brush along his back. Hair was coming out in droves. He must've been shedding then. She shook the brush off, watching as the clumps of black fell to the sawdust covered ground. 

"I know it's silly but… I have this sense that something is very wrong. I mean… I don't know, maybe I'm creating unnecessary drama. It's just…No, I feel like I'm warranted that. I am, after all, the only  _ human  _ down here. It can be a little worrying. But also, maybe I'm just so used to being treated like garbage that I expect the worst… I mean, what if he's just ignoring me because he's scared of his own feelings?" She rambled. Calibri snorted in mild annoyance and she giggled. 

"You're right. It  _ is  _ stupid. I shouldn't even be thinking like this. It's almost like I'm infatuated with him and that is  _ not  _ the case. Absolutely not. Not after everything he did to me… but he has… I don't know! Lately though things have been so weird. You know he never hurt me again after that night. I really do think he was genuinely disgusted with himself… I know. What does it matter? He's a  _ monster… Oh mon dieu, je ressemble à une écolière."  _ Calibri snorted at her last statement and she blushed. 

"You know… I  _ do  _ want to see the best in people. I've been dragged through hell and back but… I'd like to think that even though I've been through shit… I can still put one foot forward. For my own sake...if not just to prove to everyone that I'm not someone you can walk all over." she murmured. Calibri blinked at her and lowered his head in silent understanding. She smiled and caressed his large cheek. He was a beautiful beast. Frisk really didn't want to be a damsel in distress. 

Her whole life had been a bad trip through hell, people had done things to her she'd never talk about. At the end of the day, when she looked in the mirror, she tried to see the little girl who loved to dance. The little girl who woke up too early to have deep conversations with her father before he went to work. The little girl who  _ did  _ see the best in everyone. It was that little girl that fostered the Determination in her soul. And it was the determination that had saved her and kept her going. She was lucky. 

A lot of people didn't have Determination in their souls. They broke under the pressure of life if it crushed them too hard. She knew several people who would've been broken by Sans's cruelty the first few nights. She had promised herself she was stronger. And she was. She could handle anything anyone threw at her. She knew if he had done anything else she would've fought him. She would've fought hard. 

And then of course, he didn't. Now she found herself in a new predicament. She mulled over what Flowey had wondered the other day. Was there something going on? Did  _ she  _ fancy Sans the Skeleton? Her mind screamed no… but her soul seemed drawn to him… and her body betrayed what she knew to be true. Men like Sans weren't to be trusted. Yet somehow… it was always  _ them  _ who got under her skin.  _ Stupid,  _ stupid _ girl.  _ She thought bitterly.  _ I'm such an idiot! God, what if Sans is going through the same thoughts I am? I can't blame him for avoiding me. Someone as emotionally constipated as that asshole would probably stay far away from someone they… SHUT UP.  _

Calibri neighed and shook her off, and she realized she had grown a tad too aggressive with her strokes. 

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish smile. Calibri snorted his disapproval and Frisk only giggled. 

"You're right. I need to focus on me… and  _ you  _ of course," she said as she caressed his velvety snout. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Every step Papyrus took was a battle as he made his way through the golden halls of the Judgement Hall. This time he would not be in the Hall of Songs, but rather in a smaller meeting room just off the golden hallway. 

He had requested a private meeting with the king. He was terrified, but he couldn't let Asgore smell the fear on him. As he came to the door, he shook off his nerve like water off a duck's back and sighed. 

He gave a hesitant knock, and the door seemed to open on its own. 

"Enter, Reaper," crowed Asgore. Papyrus swallowed his terror and stepped into the dimly lit room. There was a long table between them. 

All he could think about was how he could possibly manipulate the king of hell into needing him. Needing him more than Undyne that is. Papyrus knew that the king only really kept them close because some part of him feared their betrayal. It was a strange understanding.  _ Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.  _

Papyrus was so lost in thought, he almost forgot to pay submission. When he saw the glint of warning in Asgore's eyes, his soul jumped. Papyrus dropped to his knees and bowed low; he didn't rise until Asgore grunted and uttered his satisfaction. 

"Now… care to explain why we are having this meeting? Your chance to speak your mind passed at the adjourning of the Spring Song," growled Asgore, referring to the meeting on the Vernal Purge. Papyrus gulped and wrung his gloves as he thought up a response. His mind snagged on the words and as he strung up a sentence, he glanced up at Asgore. His eyelights glinted with a malicious orange-red spark. 

"You could've refused… yet here we are. Makes me believe you value the last Reaper under your employment much more than you let on," he said. Asgore locked him in a calculative gaze, which Papyrus met, despite his better knowledge. 

"Last reaper… Are you and your savage brother really the  _ last ones  _ left?" He asked with a small smirk. Papyrus twitched at the question, but he plastered a look of indifference on his face. Thank whatever higher powers existed he wasn't his brother.  _ He must be trying to get to me…the great Papyrus is not so easily beaten.  _

"Fortunately for you," said Papyrus. Asgore shifted in his seat at the bold words. He could tell by the twinkle in the king's eyes that this wasn't altogether unwelcome. When enough people grovel at your feet, you  _ must  _ have a little challenge in your life, if only to keep things interesting. 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" He asked. Papyrus feigned disinterest and glanced at the bookshelves. They were filled with dusty old tombs. Records of old kings and wars. Frisk would've loved to read them. He shook himself of his musings and turned back to Asgore.  _ Focus.  _

"You are a smart man, King Dreemur. I'm sure you recognize the power Reapers have… and so it is fortunate that all of them are dead… Except for the two most loyal to you," he said. It was painful to say that. He could feel the bile in his throat. Asgore and Papyrus shared a significant look, and Papyrus almost saw a glint of respect in the king's eyes.  _ Almost.  _

"And how are you most loyal to me?" He asked. Papyrus had half the mind to spit back,  _ because I haven't killed you yet, you bumblefuck!...  _ But he refrained. Papyrus plastered a fake smile on his skull's grimace and he tapped the table. 

"Do you know what true loyalty is, Lieutenant? True loyalty is taking the beatings of your master and serving him despite it. Loyalty is more valuable than love, Lieutenant, loyalty is the only thing I can ask of my officers. So what makes you loyal?" Asgore didn't see the hidden glare Papyrus shot him.  _ If being the last of your race left alive, watching your mother get executed and having to rise from nothing isn't taking my beating and serving despite it, I don't know what is.  _

"The fact that I'm here, in this room and not holed up somewhere in Waterfall blubbering about my woes and trying in vain to fight against you. My…  _ I  _ am here, and all my power and all my strength is under your command," he growled. Asgore smirked, his amber eyes searching the tombs. 

"I'm sure if you wanted to kill me, you'd do it right now while you have me alone… so you're loyal. That is good… it's all I'd expect from a…  _ Gaster."  _ He said. Papyrus felt his soul sink. His father had worked closely with the king, but not even that had saved their family from the bloodlust. Papyrus really didn't know much about his parents. Not nearly as much as Sans. Maybe that was a good thing. 

"You're much different from your father, though… you are not tainted by love. Such a fickle thing. Never served me. Only weakened me. You'd do well to remember that. You make a good soldier." Papyrus couldn't help but feel a touch of pride at the praise. 

"I would hope so," he murmured. Asgore chuckled and took his seat. Papyrus watched with an unbreaking gaze as Asgore flipped through the pages of a book. 

"Ah… here's a good one.  _ Beware the Jabberwock, my son. The jaws that bite, the claws that catch… beware the jubjub bird and shun the frumious bandersnatch…  _ do you read poetry, Lieutenant?" Asked Asgore. Papyrus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

"Not often, I never have time." Asgore hummed his disapproval. 

"This one was written by a human… isn't that interesting? You know, it's a shame," he mused. Papyrus shot the king a puzzled look.  _ Now the bastard has truly lost it.  _

"Shame?" Asgore sighed, looked up at Papyrus and nodded almost sorrowfully. 

"Yes. A shame," he threw the book on the floor, "that when we break the barrier and invade the surface to take back what's rightfully ours… and wreak vengeance on the wrongs those ignorant, little parasites inflicted upon us, there will be no more human art. Perhaps… that is a good thing." Papyrus could feel his soul quake with the words. They sat in icy silence for what felt like ages before Asgore glanced up at his lieutenant.

"So…  _ reaper,  _ you're loyal, powerful… is this a campaign to usurp Undyne, by chance?" He asked with an excited twinkle in his eyes. Papyrus hid the smirk growing on his face with a hand. He feigned thinking before he gave a shrug. He had to play this right. One wrong word could send him to the noose, or worse… shame.

"Undyne has proven herself… I think she makes a good general." All lies. Papyrus had nothing but contempt for Undyne's passive enabling of the King's tyranny. 

Asgore laughed heartily, which shocked Papyrus. 

"Undyne is a good warrior… but I fear her loyalty is elsewhere. You know she…  _ she  _ is tainted by love." Papyrus made a show of looking bemused. It didn't take much to fake it. Was the king actually considering him? Maybe he wouldn't have to give up Frisk…  _ You will. You know he likes to play games. He'll need to know you're willing.  _

"These days she only serves me for her own agenda. I've had my eye on you for awhile now… ever since the incident with General Leviathan." There was a but, he just knew it. What agenda could Undyne possibly have? It was then the king's words snapped him back into reality.  _ So I was right. He did really want to speak with me. _

"Of course… if you  _ really  _ wanted the position… you would prove yourself to me." And there it was. There was Frisk's place in all of this.  _ Something is too good to be true. Don't take the bait.  _

"I think you'll find having a reaper as your right hand man will reward you handsomely. My kind however… like making promises…" he said as he stood up. Asgore watched with piqued curiosity. 

"Normally I would tell you that you had no license to make deals with me… but, lieutenant, I'm feeling generous this Spring. Name your terms," he said, leaning back smugly in his chair.  _ Yes you certainly  _ are  _ feeling generous…  _ Papyrus was reminded of the prisoners that had been granted a second chance. It was all so odd… 

"All I ask is that you have an open mind, and understand I do things a very unorthodox way. I get things done nonetheless. That's my deal. A reaper's unmatchable power for an open mind. And you'll know what that means very soon," he said. Asgore rose from his chair and nodded his head. 

"Very well… you Gaster's always did like speaking in vague riddles. An open mind you shall receive…As long as my mind has  _ something  _ to be open to. If not then you'll be wasting my time, and I don't take kindly to my time being wasted." An ultimatum.  _ Progress.  _

Papyrus bowed once again to the tyrant of a king, before he saw his way out. A shudder ran up his spine and finally he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief… it was over. His plan was now set into motion. He just hoped Asgore's open mind would accept Moxie Valentine's true identity. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Our first Real look at King Asgore and how his mind works, and also... A dream like glance into a Possible Future. Who's to say though? 
> 
> Up Next: Sans caves in to Frisk—and a certain rabbit's true colors are revealed.


	29. Desire

**A/N: Before we get into the Nitty-Gritties of this chapter, I want to share some art!**

**[Sans and Papyrus in Snowden](https://photos.app.goo.gl/nbekVooXgh9sQ87p7) **

**[Sans in a baseball jersey](https://photos.app.goo.gl/1Fng8dFwW6DtURY19) **

**[Rough sketch of Sans and Frisk](https://photos.app.goo.gl/xe1DtptCz5xnwm6w6) **

**I also want to thank those, you know who you are, who made fan art! That's always been like, something I've wanted. Fanart of Writing will always be an Author's biggest wish. So thank you for making that happen.**

**If _you_ have fanart, or want to draw fanart for WDYW, I highly encourage it and I will post it and shower you with compliments. If you want to post it on Tumblr, please tag it WDYW so that I can find it. 🥰**

**Alright that's it for the author's note! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Desire 

* * *

Hotland was quiet this time of night. It was the perfect time to be out, despite the curfew that graced the city. But what needed to be done, needed to be done. 

Nick Creamer pushed his ice cream cart through the alleyways of Hotland to avoid the soldiers. All the neon signs and lava, that was much too hot for Nick's Lapine body, was starting to weigh on him. He shouldn't have ever left Snowden, really, but people needed him here. Gerson needed him here. 

He was one of the only people who could smuggle people and other things in and out of the arenas effectively. Or smuggle things in general. Not many people were suspicious of an old ice cream cart. Especially when that ice cream in the said ice cream cart was the best damn ice cream in the Underground and everyone knew it. But good ice cream with nice little sayings in the wrapper was a slim rope to walk on when carrying much more precious and much more  _ illegal  _ cargo. 

When Nick had heard that Bianca had been broken in and given a chance of freedom from the Purge in the arena, he knew he had to do something. He didn't know what yet but… he had to give her some kind of hope. Something to remind her that they still cared about her and were going to try and get her out. All of them who fell victim. They were good people. Good, honest people, all of them. 

Nick had lost too many good people in his life. Whether that person decided goodness wasn't serving them and flipped the coin, or if they just died… 

One thing was for sure… he wasn't going to lose faith in people. Or in the Angel. Neither should his fellow rebels. He was going to help them, he had to. 

Nick made it to the Arena barracks as stealthily as possible. As he climbed down into the prisoner corridor, he pulled a mask over his head to hide his face and ears. 

He knew where the guards were. Right now they were switching shifts. That gave him just enough time to get a message in for Bianca. If she made it out… would she be broken into the perfect citizen for Asgore Dreemur? That was the one fear he had. That she had turned into a loyalist out of fear. 

"Mrs. Drake?" He whispered as he made his way through the corridor. A few of the gladiators growled at him, others looked up with flickers of hope in their eyes. 

"Nick?" Whispered the woman. She hobbled to the bars. Her clothes were in tatters… truly she looked awful. A large gash marked her chest and he choked at the sight. Bianca lowered her eyes in shame. 

"They got us… they forced us to vow our loyalty to the king," she said, her voice cracking.

"What am I going to do?" She sobbed. Nick shushed her and looked around at the gladiators that glared at him. He looked back at her. 

"Don't lose faith. Gerson has a plan to get you out—"

"—They'll go after Jackson," she breathed. Nick shook his head. 

"Jackson's safe, he's with us," he said reassuringly. Bianca shook her head and pressed her feathers against the bars. 

"No… you don't understand… Undyne she… she got information out of us. Daryl, he got it the worst out of all of us and… he broke. He told Undyne where… where we were… she hasn't made a move yet but I think—"

"—They're waiting until the Purge…" Bianca nodded with a hopeless sob. Nick's eyes widened. He had to warn Gerson… No he had to get Bianca out first. 

"Hey! What are you doing in here!?" Shouted a guard—suddenly he didn't have much of a choice. Nick's heart jumped into his throat and he gave Bianca a desperate look. He couldn't just leave her! 

"Go! Warn Gerson! I'll be fine!" She ordered. Nick stumbled away as the guard barreled towards him. He gave one last look at Bianca before sprinting away. 

The guard chased him through the labyrinth like Arena. He needed to find his icecream cart! Curses flooded his brain. He couldn't get caught! Not today! 

Nick tore down a popcorn stand and jumped down the wall to land on the flagstones below. He could hear the guard cuss. Nick's eyes were wide with terror as he skidded across the corner. He heard the whistle blow. The alarm sounded.

He found his cart, and just as he was about to kick out the breaks, he yelped as he was tackled to the ground. 

"Gotcha now ya bugga!" Snarled the guard above him.  _ No!  _ Nick flipped onto his back and kicked the guard in the stomach with all his might. The guard gasped for air and stumbled back. 

Nick turned, only to run right into another guard, who slammed him against the wall by the head. 

"You Angelicans are starting to become too easy to catch." Nick lunged to bite at him, but his head was slammed into the wall once again. As shackles clicked around his wrists, he let out a pitiful cry. It couldn't end like this! 

"Come on, let's take him in… get the ice cream cart too. I could use a snack." 

  
  
  


⁂

  
  


"You did great, I think you'll be a real prodigy. You practically mastered the basics in one day!" Exclaimed Frisk to Lola as she helped put the hotel room they were practicing in back together. Lola beamed triumphantly at the praise. 

"Thank you Ms. Valentine," she said. Frisk couldn't stop the smile on her face. 

"Just remember to keep your hips tucked in." They walked downstairs together, Lola practically dancing down the steps.

Charlotte glanced up at her employee and close friend and smiled. There was something in her eyes that troubled Frisk, like she knew something. She waved and Charlotte nodded in acknowledgement. The look quickly flickered away and was replaced with warmth. 

"Thank you again for taking up these lessons, it means the world to Lola and I," she said. Frisk bowed her head. 

"Of course, you know I'd do anything for a friend," she said. Charlotte waved her goodbye, and Frisk jogged down the road. 

She faltered when she passed Grillby's. Was Sans in there? What would happen if she marched in there and confronted him? Confronted him for…  _ for what? Avoiding you?  _

Confusing and frustrating her. That was what. She stared at the pink neon sign and clenched her jaw.  _ Fuck Sans. If he can't handle his emotions, why should I suffer?  _ With that, she turned away, and tried to forget her irritation… and the way her stomach fluttered idiotically at the thought of him. 

When she finally left Snowden, she slowed to a walk. 

"You make a great teacher," said Flowey proudly. Frisk beamed as the two walked through the woods.  _ Good, a nice, distracting conversation. _ Snow crunched lightly under her boots. No matter what season it was, it seemed to always be snowing. 

"It doesn't hurt that Lola is just a good student," she said nonchalantly. Flowey chuckled. 

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Frisk shrugged and spun gracefully on her feet. 

"I think you give me too much." 

When she got home Frisk looked around to check if the coast was clear. She could use a shower. Like she expected, no one was there, or at least awake. She had gotten back pretty late, considering she had still had to do chores for Papyrus and then the dance class. It had been a long day. She took Flowey to their room and set him down on her bed. 

"Ok, goodnight, I'm going to wash up while I have the house to myself," she said with a wink. Flowey chuckled and waved her off. 

As she walked down the hall, her eyes were almost naturally drawn to Sans's room. She clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes at her stupidity. It was like she never learned. 

_ "That's the asshole who you compare me to… right?" _

_ "Do you blame me?" _

_ "No…"  _

_ "Hm, well… I'll let you know if that changes." _

She swayed her hips to imaginary music, part of her mind still in the hotel room, spinning in front of a mirror. She quickly stripped out from her day clothes and picked her way to the bathtub.  _ Oh wait, I need to get some clothes. Ugh, stupid.  _ She sighed and glanced around for some kind of cover while she ventured into the hall.  _ What are you expecting, Sans to come up? He doesn't come back these days until the witching hour, I'm pretty sure five seconds naked down the hall will go unnoticed.  _ Still, better safe than sorry. 

She wrapped herself in a towel and ventured out into the hallway. Now felt like the kind of night to wear a nightgown. She just felt like doing things right and not being lazy for once when it came to her bedtime rituals. She was exercising again, she was having _dance classes,_ might as well go the extra step. She smiled softly. 

Halfway down the hall, the stairs creaked. 

"Frisk…" Frisk froze as Sans's voice drifted to her in the dead of the night. He sounded…  _ desperate? Surprised?  _

All previous thoughts of night gowns and showers were suddenly forgotten. She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing at the stairs, his red eyes the only light in the room. Her breath hitched in her throat. So now he wanted to talk. Why was he always open to her at night and not any other time? She didn't want to play his game. 

"Sans... _ goodnight,"  _ she spat, before she turned back to her door. Part of her wanted so badly for him to stop her.  __

"Wait." This time, he stopped her. Her heart fluttered. She couldn't help but feel a mixture of annoyance and enticement.  _ Stupid traitorous body.  _

"What? Now you all the sudden want to talk to me? What happened to pretending I didn't exist?" She spat, lifting her eyes to meet his. There was something else on his face. Like he didn't hear her at all. He swayed on his feet, those eyelights falling over her body. It was then she remembered she was in nothing but a towel and she blushed. Something in his look made her hot with anticipation. 

"...Come here," he murmured, his fingers curling with the gesture. Her feet betrayed her and she moved closer to him despite her better knowledge. She hated how much she had started craving him. They stood an arms length from each other. The silence of the night draped around them. 

"Sans?" His name fell off her lips as she eyed him warily. He shushed her slowly, his hand rising as if to touch a dangerous animal. 

"I just… want a good look at you. In case… in case you disappear," he whispered.  _ What? _ What could that have possibly meant? He was so close… She could smell the mix of that cologne and the smoke of Grillby's on him. So that's where he'd been all night. She knew it. Her brows furrowed. 

"What? What are you… are you drunk?" She asked. That ever present grin never looked more serious in all the time she had known him. He shrugged sheepishly. 

"...maybe," he admitted. Frisk rolled her eyes. The last time he had been drunk and graced her with his presence, he had gotten her a Beatles album. She didn't know if she wanted to stick around and find out what else he would do. 

"Sans… I'm going to bed," she said, but there was a hesitation in her voice. He shook his head, a frantic look in his eyes at the idea that he could let her slip through his fingers. 

"No, Frisk, please!" He whispered, grasping her arm. His touch sent fire through her body and her soul seemed to hum with delight. Traitorous body! 

"Sans let me…" she trailed off. Her head was screaming with warnings. He was after all, the most dangerous person she had ever known… but that all felt so far away suddenly. Right now, he was just him. And he was right there. 

"Just shut up for a second…" Frisk's stomach went warm as his thumb ran circles on her arm. She met his eyes. He was gazing at her, his grin soft, serious. 

"You're… you're beautiful," he murmured. Her cheeks flushed. He needed to quit it. He couldn't just ignore her for a whole week and then do  _ this.  _ Where had this even come from? 

"Sans," she grumbled. He shook his head, his hand dragging her closer. She didn't fight it. There was something hot, heavy, in the air. She was intoxicated by him, almost as much as he was by her. 

"No. You're so… I can't get enough of you. I can't get you out of my head. You're the only thing I can think about. Your eyes…" Frisk's lip trembled as his fangs glinted in the red lights cast by his own eyes. What was he trying to do? 

"Stop…" She didn't want him to stop, and her voice, her body, betrayed her words. She craved him, even though she knew she shouldn't. She shouldn't have wanted him as badly as she did. 

"Your eyes are so beautiful." She shook her head weakly as his compliments wove in and out of her mind. Why did he confuse her so much? She should've hated him. 

"Sans," she whimpered. His grip tightened on her arm. 

"I think I'm in love with you." His voice was hardly audible, but she heard him clear as day. She froze.  _ What did he say? No… no, he didn't… he didn't mean it, why would he mean that?  _

"...Why are you doing this? What is it with you? You're hot one minute, you're cold the next." She tried to push away from him. They had gotten  _ so _ close. And truly, why was it that his truth seeped out in the dead of night? Not only that but… he was  _ drunk.  _ What if tomorrow he went right back to pretending she didn't exist? Why did he even do that? What had she done? After tonight she didn't know if she could handle that. She was starting to come to the alarming conclusion of just how much she actually  _ liked him.  _

"Would you stop trying to psychoanalyze me for five seconds?" He growled, his voice dripping with need. She eyed him, her lips pursing. As his other hand rested on her waist, and her body trembled with fire, she tried one last time to stop this. Stop  _ herself.  _

"You're drunk. I'm tired," she murmured. He chuckled low, his voice almost a purr as they stared at each other. He raised a brow bone at her and the two seemed to sway to imaginary music. 

"Great, now that we know each other's names, can we just… stay like this for a moment?" He asked, dragging her closer. She let out a sigh as they swayed together. This couldn't be happening. Her soul was burning with desire. Her entire body was wanting for his touch.  _ I think I'm in love with you.  _ She couldn't remember the last time someone had said that to her… and meant it.  _ What makes you sure he meant it?  _

"...Why would you say something like that?" She asked as his hand ran along her arm and up to her neck. His touch sent fire down her body. 

"Hm? Like what?" His mind was far, far away as he ran his fingers through her hair. She sighed. All she could feel was his hands on her. 

"That you think you're in love with me? Why would you say that?" She asked again as his large hand rested on her cheek. Her breath hitched at the tickle of his thumb running over her bottom lip. 

"...Your skin is so soft," he purred. She let out a shaking breath as his fingers ran through her hair once more. 

"Sans… Sans answer the question…" she whispered as her body squirmed against his. He was in a completely different place however, his breath hot against her neck. Her spine tingled with anticipation. 

"Your hair… fuck your hair is so  _ soft."  _ God, his voice. How dare someone's voice be that sexy. He was close enough to bite her. She found herself asking the same question she asked many a night. 

"Sans…what do you want?" He drew back, his tongue running over his sharp fangs as he gazed down at her. His brows raised. 

"What do  _ you  _ want?" A spike of heat shot through her as he tossed her question right back at her. What  _ did  _ she want? She hardly ever thought hard about her own desires. The longer they stood there, gazing at each other, the heat of their own bodies filling the heavy air, she caved in.  _ Fuck it.  _

"I… I… I want you," she breathed. He sucked in through his teeth as his grip on her hair and waist tightened. Her lips parted ever so slightly. 

"...Say it again," he practically growled into her ear.  _ Fuck.  _ She didn't care anymore if he went right back to ignoring her in the morning. She had him tonight, and she wanted him more than anything. Who cared why. 

"I want you Sans," she said again as she draped her arms around his neck. He was on her faster than a Hellhound after a soul. His teeth crashed against her, drool slipped down his chin. She moaned softly at the sensation of his fangs biting at her lips. Sans pushed her against the wall, his hands slipping past the meager towel she had covered herself with. His touch was like heroin. 

She gasped as he hoisted her into his arms and hugged her close. She straddled him and let her head roll back as he sucked and bit at the tender flesh of her neck. He was hungry for her. That notion sent a pleasured thrill through her soul. She drove him insane, insane enough to try and ignore her.  _ He just couldn't help himself… of course, it all makes sense now. _ A small smirk graced her lips at the idea that she really did have him wrapped around her finger. 

She whimpered as his sharp fangs trailed along her skin, the delicate towel falling away. His gentle love bites were going to drive her mad. Her hips rolled and he chuckled into her neck. 

She glanced around. They were still in the hallway. He got the memo and carried her to his room. 

She giggled as he kicked the door closed. He pressed her against the wall once more and gazed at her. He looked like he wanted to eat her. Something flickered across his gaze. Some melancholic regret that she couldn't put her finger on.

As quickly as it came, it passed, and he nibbled her lip. She sighed into him as he ran his tongue along her mouth. His hands roamed down the small of her back and to her ass and thighs as he held her. Sparks. It had been so long since she had felt sparks. 

As she rolled her hips once more she felt a swelling heat in his pants and a tremor of excitement ran up her spine. She desperately tugged away at his jacket as he sucked at her collar bone. He grinned and shrugged it off for her. 

Sans didn't let her go for a second, as if the moment he stopped touching her she would turn to dust and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. If he were sober he probably wouldn't be here to begin with. A deeper voice screamed at him to stop, that this was wrong; but he needed her so badly. In just the three months he had known her, Frisk had quickly become the center of his universe.

It was wrong. She shouldn't have been, and he knew that with what Papyrus had planned, this would only make things harder… but Alice had been right when she had accused him of loving Frisk. He didn't know if that was the word he would use… but she had been right. Ever since then he couldn't stop seeing Frisk by his side. Or in his bed. He longed for her. Everyday he  _ needed  _ her more. Avoiding her was only making that need worse. People wanted what they couldn't have. It made it harder to be around her, now with the guilt of Papyrus's plan and his desire for her pounding on his mind twenty-four/seven. 

It was wrong… but Goddamnit it felt right. It felt  _ so _ right. 

Frisk bit her lip with delight as he pinned her on his bed. She ground her hips against his, the feeling of his bulge against her was enough to drive her insane. Sans took his precious time however, his fingers rubbing her clit and folds. She whimpered, her hands grasping Sans's t-shirt. Ever since that time on the roof, she had craved his presence. Ever since their day in the Capitol when he had lingered over her in that graffiti alley…they couldn't seem to be close enough. 

She rose off of her back, hugging him close as she straddled his lap. His fingers elicited several, soft, sweet moans out of her mouth. Frisk ran her tongue along the dry bone of his neck and he sighed into her hair. She relished in the rhythm, usually these kinds of affairs happened too fast and she was left unsatisfied. For some reason, however, Sans was completely different. She didn't know if it was the way he growled into her ear, or the calculating pace he took. It was a lot of things. It was wonderfully pleasurable and terrifying. She needed more. 

"Sans…" she whimpered. He hummed at the sound of his name on her lips, his eyes glazed over with lust as his fingers slid inside of her. 

"Fuck me." He breathed heavily at her words and he squeezed her thighs. She didn't know what she had expected from someone like Sans. She had always figured he was a sadist… or something of the like. She expected him to call his lovers whores and sluts. Dirty talk of the lowest gutter… but he was completely silent, if not for the rumble of his breath and groans. It was strange, how filled with contradictions he was. He was almost beastial, yet there was a wall of calculation that took her into consideration. He was focused on nothing but her. And he was  _ good _ . 

When she uttered those words, he nodded and gave her shoulder a gentle bite. Their hands fumbled as they worked together to jerk his pants off. 

She didn't know if she was surprised or not that he had a cock. She was too enamored to ask questions. At least now she could put all those ponderings about how a skeleton could possibly have sex away. 

She clasped it in her hands and positioned herself above his lap. They shared a look, a hungry, desperate look that spoke a thousand words. She slid down his length and he seethed at the sensation. 

Sans was ashamed to admit that he had never agreed with Mettaton more in his entire life than he did right then. Humans really were the best thing a monster could get its hands on. Frisk was the best thing  _ he  _ could've gotten  _ his _ hands on. She was so gorgeous. He loved everything about her in that moment. Her body was soft, she was glowing with the sweat of arousal. And those soft, little noises she was making! She was driving him crazy! 

Frisk moaned through clenched teeth as they settled into a rhythm. It was almost like everything in the universe had aligned for this moment. It was  _ right. _

His jeans weren't even off all the way, still pooled at his knees as she rolled her hips against his thrusts. Sans cussed under his breath, which only fueled her fire. She whimpered as his hands clasped her naked waist. His touch sent fire through her body and her soul burned through her chest. 

The bones of his pelvis dug into her inner thighs as he thrust deeper into her and she whimpered at the pain that hurt so good. Never had she ever felt this way. He certainly knew what he was doing, and he made her feel things no man she had been with ever did. 

He laid her back against the sheets and quickened his pace, the rhythm growing more spastic and desperate. She curled as his fingers found their way back to her clit, a loud moan exploding off her lips as he brought her to the edge. 

Sans grinned as he shushed her. Making a woman as beautiful as her make noises like that went straight to his ego, but tonight would be ruined if she woke Papyrus up. She bit hard on her lip as she recognized the same threat to their blissful time together. 

Sans gazed down at her with hungry, lustful eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known in his entire life and just for tonight she was all  _ his. He  _ was the one making her moan and tremble. Even if it was just for tonight. A small voice nagged in the back of his mind. 

Tonight would never be enough. He'd had a taste of her… he knew he'd need more. To his drunk mind, that thought was exciting. He fantasized about all the things he could do with her. Making her feel good was his life's mission for that moment. He even forgot about Papyrus and his stupid… awful plan. Right now… she was the only thing that existed. 

As his thumb pressed hard against her clit, she gasped, her thighs shaking uncontrollably; climax flooding her body. Her back arched as he ravished her. He dragged her up while she moaned in ecstasy. 

Sans rode out her climax, seething at the sensation of her walls tightening around his cock. She felt amazing, and she looked amazing. Everything about her was amazing. He couldn't get enough of her. She gasped against his jaw as he fucked her, her body shaking against his. His name spilled out from her lips as if he was the only thing that existed, his name the only word in her vocabulary. That thought alone was enough to finish him off. 

Frisk gasped as he pulled out from her, a rumbling, predatory growl emanating from his chest as he came. She yelped as his fangs sank into her shoulder, blood seeping out. Her eyes rolled up as his hands pulled her closer. As he rode out his orgasm, his teeth put a mark as clear as day on her flawless skin. Tears of pleasurable pain rolled down her cheeks and she sighed into his neck. 

He slowly lowered her back onto the bed, his tongue lapping up the blood seeping out of her skin. She arched her back against him as his magic dissipated. They laid like that together for what felt like ages. His tongue running over her shoulder, her ass pressed against his hips, their hot breaths filling the air. She couldn't help but feel complete awe at the experience she had just undergone. That was how it was supposed to be. She smiled in contentment. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair after a long silence. She furrowed her brow at the words. Why was he sorry? 

"What?" She murmured mindlessly. His body seemed to shake and she glanced at him. He was staring up at the ceiling, a distant look in his eyes. Suddenly he felt so far away again. Her eyes widened at the thought that he hadn't been as satisfied as her. He glanced over at her. 

"You're perfect… you're everything a guy could want," he murmured. She felt an icy dread grow in her stomach. There was a but in that sentence. What was wrong? Did he not like it? Did he come to the conclusion that he wanted nothing to do with her? She felt her heart sinking. Did she just give herself to him for nothing? Did she stupidly just let him  _ use her?  _

"You deserve so much better. Instead you're stuck with me." Her eyes widened and she turned over to face him. He glanced over at her, his eyes filled with some distant sadness. She pulled herself closer to him, as if trying to pull him back to her, as if trying to keep him from slipping away. 

"Did you mean it… when you said you thought you were in love with me?" She whispered. His eyes narrowed in thought as he gazed at her. She didn't know why she needed him to say yes, but she did. However, he didn't say anything. He merely ran his hand through her hair and gazed into her eyes. 

"Frisk…things are complicated…" he trailed off when he realized that's not exactly what she wanted to hear. His soul seemed to crumble and he wished he could have taken it back. 

She frowned and turned away. Her heart sank. She couldn't believe this. How could she have let herself do this? What was worse was the fact she had loved every second of it. But now it was over… she shouldn't have caved into him like that. No matter how good it was. Or how much she felt for him. When he reached for her, she shrugged him off and pulled herself up. The bruises and bites on her body now ached. 

"I… understand," she whispered as she got up. She felt so vulnerable, standing naked in his room. She looked over her shoulder at him and they shared a desperate look. He sat up, regret crossing his face. She smiled weakly. 

"I'm going to take a shower," she whispered. He nodded slowly and lay back down. It was probably for the best if she didn't stay. He had made a huge mistake. The worst part was… it had been so  _ good.  _ She had been everything. He hated himself more and more as the seconds ticked away. He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. 

As Frisk stood, hunched over, the hot water raining down on her, she couldn't help but feel tears prick her eyes. She scrubbed her body raw, trying with all her might to wash away the heat of his touch. But what she had said was true. She really _did_ want him. No matter how much she scrubbed, she couldn't escape the pull he had on her soul, she couldn't wash away the burning sensation of his kisses. Tonight proved it. Tonight set in stone what she had been debating with herself for days now. She wanted him. 

More tears rolled down her cheeks and she choked on the pain. She had never felt this way about anyone and it wasn't fucking  _ fair.  _ She should've known better! She really should've known better. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Nick is an Angelican! And..... Uhhhh. That sexual tension bubble was bound to pop eventually. 
> 
> Up Next: Hurt feelings, a fist to the face and a jealous "ex??"


	30. Used Toy

Chapter Thirty: Used Toy 

* * *

"What's on your shoulder?" Asked Flowey as Frisk got dressed the next morning. She stiffened and looked down at the teeth marks that were still fresh _.  _

She quickly pulled her turtleneck over her chest and covered them. She had… a  _ lot  _ of bite marks on her body and she wanted to hide them all… if only from her own eyes. As if hiding them would make her forget her stupidity. Her… her utter lack of  _ self control.  _

"It's nothing," she lied. Her body was frustratingly sore from last night… and her soul was bruised with hurt feelings. She didn't want to see that bastard again. She had completely lost her sense of self… she had let him use her. Why did she always get herself into these situations? Did she ever learn? 

Her body betrayed her heart as she recalled the way he had touched her and heat spread through her stomach. 

"You're crying… what's wrong?" Asked Flowey with obvious concern. Frisk wiped her eyes roughly and fastened her mask to her face. 

"I'm fine, just forget about it," she whimpered pitifully as he climbed onto her back and formed her horns. He narrowed his eyes. 

"It's Sans, isn't it? What did he do this time? I swear, I'll put him in his place—"

"—No, just please, let's not talk about it, ok?" She croaked. Was she really crying? As she jogged down the stairs, she avoided looking at Sans's door. Her stomach ached with the pressure of anxiety as she left the house without even stopping for breakfast. 

When she got into town, she made a pit stop at Bonnie's shop. She was famished, and she could use one of her cinna-buns, if only to offer some form of sweet comfort from her current predicament. 

"Hey, suga!"

" 'Ello, love!" 

Frisk smiled weakly at the warm greetings of her friends. Doug grinned at her as he lit a cigar. Bonnie scowled at him, but she was too tired to slap it away. She had just crawled out of bed a few minutes ago after all. 

"Hey," said Frisk, her voice cracking pathetically. Doug and Bonnie immediately sensed something was amiss, much like Flowey had, and Doug rushed to her side. 

" 'Ey, whatsamatta' love?" He asked as he huffed out a puff of smoke. She coughed and shook him away to avoid the inevitable questioning that would bombard her. Flowey understood that she kept secrets, he did too. The both of them made it a point not to pry in the other's business unless they wanted to tell; but Doug and Bonnie were not so sensitive. 

"Did those reapers do any'fin to ya?" Asked Doug as Bonnie leaned over the counter curiously. Frisk sniffed and fought back the tears welling in her eyes.  _ Used me that's what. And I let him. I fucking  _ let  _ him.  _

"No," she whimpered as she grabbed several cinna-buns from the shelf. Bonnie's eyes widened as she brought them to the counter. 

"Suga' you know we're here for you if you need anything. You don't have to be so guarded… you don't have to protect them," whispered Bonnie. Frisk felt herself getting mad. She just wanted to be left alone. She couldn't talk about this with anyone. The only person she could really— _truly_ talk to without fear of judgment was Sans and _he_ was the one who _did_ this to her. He was the one who was making her feel this way. Frustrated, confused, heart broken, anxious, nervous, jealous, infatuated, _aroused…_ She hated that she craved him so much, whether it be his touch or his conversation. No one would understand either, because all they knew him as was the horrible man he pretended to be, and probably really was. She felt so stupid! 

"It's  _ nothing.  _ Just forget it… I mean…  _ thanks  _ for the concern, but really, I'm fine. Just… I guess I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed," she murmured. Bonnie and Doug studied her before they sighed in resolve and nodded. 

"Take care of yourself, suga'," called Bonnie as she left the store. Frisk waved and jogged the rest of the way to the hotel. With that, she started work; praying to whatever god was listening to keep her distracted from the heat that lingered on her body, the bruises still tender on her skin, and the darkness in her soul. She felt like a used toy. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Red smoke formed just outside of the patrol office, marking the arrival of Sans. As he walked through, a fist crashed against his face. He stumbled back and brought his hand to his nose. His eyes flared as he readied his magic until he saw Doug shake off his fist.  _ Shit.  _

"What the hell man?" He groaned.  _ Whatever it is, I probably deserved it _ . Doug snarled at him. 

" _ That  _ was for Frisk, ya bloody lout. I saw her this morning—"

"—Shit—"

"—She was crying, and when Bon and I asked what's wrong, she said it was fine. That's when I knew it was you, ya fucka'... So what happened this time?" Sans hung his head in shame.  _ I  _ did  _ deserve that.  _ He sighed and the two entered the patrol office. When Sans met Doug's eyes, he grunted. God if he didn’t feel shitty before, he definitely felt shitty now. 

"I fucked up. It's my fault, ok? I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn't… stop myself. I was drunk—"

"—Wait, wait, wait, did you… force—"

"—No! God no… it was consensual, but that's not the point." Doug eyed him as he connected the dots. When he came to the realization, he scoffed and shook his head at him. 

“What’s the point? Ya shouldn’t have done it in the first place? What happened? God how long are you gonna let your emotional baggage control you?” Sans growled at the dig at his character. Doug didn’t understand half of it. He didn’t understand that he and Papyrus were going to turn her in, he didn’t understand the promises he had made would be broken… and he certainly didn’t understand the emotional warfare Sans was caught in. On one hand, he had to help his brother… on the other hand… he wanted Frisk so desperately. What was worse was that now Sans knew she wanted him too. It added an entirely new layer of complications to Papyrus’s plan. 

“How long are you going to let yourself be controlled by what happened to your parents? Or what your parents did to you? You have to make this right,” growled Doug. Sans curled into himself the more Doug spoke. He knew he was right. He couldn’t keep ignoring her. Especially after what happened last night.  _ She was crying? Fuck…I have to make it up to her.  _

“No, you’re right. Problem is, I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know how to make things better. I mean we’ve had a… a pretty rocky relationship,” he admitted. Doug shook his head. 

“Well fuck, Sans… if you really care about her, you’ll figure it out—”

“—SANS!” Sans and Doug practically fell out of their chairs with shock as Papyrus burst through the door.  _ Oh God, what now!? Shit did he— _

“Nick! Nick’s been brought into a holding cell in Hotland!” He exclaimed. Sans jumped up.  _ Nick!?  _ Suddenly, his past worries about Frisk were forgotten at the threat that his oldest friend was in trouble. Doug watched with alarm as Sans chased his younger brother out of the patrol office. 

“What? What’s Nick doin’ in jail?” He asked frantically. Papyrus growled under his breath and shot Sans a poisonous look. 

“He’s an Angelican. Apparently he’s been smuggling people out of the Arenas and into the Ruins and the Angelican hideouts all over Waterfall… who could’ve seen that coming?” Sans soul sank at the knowledge. Nick… an Angelican? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Nick had always been a compassionate guy, and he had always hated the King. Unlike the way Sans and Papyrus had gone… he chose to fight back. God, sometimes good people did really stupid things. How were they going to get him out of this? They couldn't. And with the Purge only a few days away… 

"Well what are we gonna do? We can't let him out without—"

"—I know! I'll see if I can transfer him to the local prison under my command." The Frostgate Prison, located in a frozen cavern just five miles out of Snowden. Sans didn't often go, unless to lock up a border jumper. It's where Frederick Drake had stayed before his hanging. It was an awful prison, but not nearly as bad as the prison in Hotland or worse, the Capitol. 

"Yeah? What do you need me to do?" He asked. Papyrus glanced down at his older brother and sniffed in thought. 

"What you do best. Make things happen. Now come on," he ordered. Sans nodded and the two were enveloped in red-orange smoke. 

  
  


⁂

__

_ It was five a.m. Sans couldn't sleep. He often couldn't. He often had nightmares. Lydian was usually there to comfort him, but she was at the hospital. An on call doctor never stopped working. Things had been getting worse. A sickness was afflicting the Underground. Reapers were the numerous casualties.  _

_ Sans shuffled tiredly down the hall. He might as well get some water while he was up.  _

_ "What are you doing out of bed?" Murmured a dark voice. Sans started at the sound of his father's voice. It wasn't often Dr. Gaster would be at home; he was usually working endless hours in the Core. Sans glanced into the living room and watched calculatively as a red glow pulsed in the shadows, and the smell of cigarillo smoke touched his nostrils.  _

_ "I had a nightmare, I was gettin' some water," he said through a yawn. W.D Gaster leaned forward in his chair and gazed across at his son.  _

_ "How about you join me in here?" It wasn't a suggestion, it was a direct order. Sans glanced back at the kitchen and shrugged. He went to go sit on the couch. His father blew out a puff of smoke.  _

_ "You know mom doesn't like it when you smoke in the house," he grunted. W.D Gaster eyed his son and a small smirk played at his skull's grimace.  _

_ "Your mother isn't here right now…" he said. Sans chuckled softly.  _

_ "How has your schooling been going?" He asked. Sans shrugged. Talking to his dad like this was foreign. W.D usually had no interest in the affairs of his sons.  _

_ "I mean… it's been going alright. Kinda boring." W.D chortled at his son's response and the red pulse of his cigarillo lit his face.  _

_ "I wouldn't doubt that. The educational system is failing you. You're a lot smarter than ninety percent of those kids." At eleven years old, Sans knew what his father said was more of a pat on his own back for being a superior mentor than it was direct praise for his eldest son's intuition… That didn't stop the shiver of pride that ran down his spine, however.  _

_ "I miss mom, when do you think she's going to come back?" He asked after a long silence. W.D frowned in that hidden way that only a reaper could frown. His eye lights went black and it almost seemed like the cigarillo was snuffed out along with them.  _

_ "Your mother believes she needs to stay away for a while and quarantine herself to keep you and Papyrus safe." Sans thought long about that.  _ How ridiculous.  _ Their mother was a doctor, surely she'd be fine.  _

_ "Is that what you believe?" He asked. W.D Gaster stared down at his son, a calculative twinkle in his eyes. The two were startlingly similar.  _

_ "What I believe doesn't matter." Sans rolled his eyes at the vague answer. Gasters and their cryptic ways.  _

_ "You know what's weird about all of this?" Gaster hummed in response, an indication for Sans to continue, "we're the only ones dying and getting infected. Makes me wonder if something is going on. Something bad. Or at least, that's what I keep dreamin' about."  _

_ W.D tilted his head as he observed his son.  _

_ "Very insightful. You are too much like your old man, you know that?…That's why you're my favorite. You're the smartest." Sans shook his head at his father's small praise. He didn't often get praise from his old man. When he did, it was somehow always more directed at W.D and not him, yet it never failed to boost his self-esteem. Father's approval was both Sans and Papyrus's deepest desire.  _

_ "Don't say that, Papyrus is smart too. He's a lot smarter than you think he is," murmured Sans in whole-hearted defense of his brother. W.D studied his son. Sans had always been a protector, and was always more concerned with the well being of his brother than his own… the one difference between them. W.D grunted and took another drag of his cigarillo. He sighed out the smoke and glanced at his oldest son.  _

_ "Not like you. You're an observer. You're calculative. You're a judge… Keep your eye out, son… I have a feeling the world is gonna get very ugly very fast and you'll need to be tough to withstand it. Now go to bed." Sans nodded obediently and stood up. What did he mean by that? Things were going to get ugly? Hadn’t his mom said something almost exactly like that? What did they know? What were they hiding?  _

_ "Yes sir…" With that, he trudged upstairs. He glanced at his brother's door to see it close. Looks like someone had been eavesdropping. He sighed with a small hint of guilt and went to bed. Nothing but the words of his father plagued his mind.  _

⁂

Charlotte had looked at her weird. Charlotte didn't ask questions, but Frisk could see the frown of concern on her face. She looked like she wanted to ask her something. Or tell her something. What did she want to tell her? What did she know? Did she know about her night with Sans? Oh God she hoped not. 

Frisk subconsciously pulled up the neck of her sweater. As much as she loved Charlotte, she was a pretty avid gossiper. Who knew what she said to her friends. Did she talk about her? She had never doubted the solidarity of their friendship, but what if..? As much as she wanted to trust Charlotte…  _ I can't trust her with the weight of this  _ fucking _ problem _ . 

_ Good one.  _ The voice of Sans almost seemed to  _ speak  _ into her mind. She gasped almost to herself. Jesus she was going insane. Everything was starting to get to her. She didn't know if she hated him or if she wanted him to fuck her again… just to make sure what she was feeling was real.  _ You can't do that with him again. You shouldn't have done it in the first place. He was drunk, he probably doesn't even remember.  _ She knew that was a lie, but it's a funny thing; just how much a person puts themselves through to hurt themselves. 

"Hey hun—" Frisk gasped with shock and stumbled away. Charlotte's eyes were wide at the reaction and Frisk laughed nervously. 

"You ok?" She chuckled. Frisk laughed along.  _ No, but thanks for asking.  _

"I'm good…" she breathed. Charlotte quirked a skeptical brow, but she didn't prod. Frisk was grateful for that. 

"I need you to run an errand for me. I totally forgot to buy some ice for the kitchen, do you think you could manage? I wrote down the address for the Ice Packer, you just need to go and pick it up. I'm pretty sure if you tipped him well enough, Faolan would help you carry it back here." Frisk nodded hastily. God anything to get her blood flowing and her mind off of  _ him.  _

"Of course, I'll be back before you can say  _ cinna-bun,"  _ she said as she took the slip of paper from Charlotte's paws. Charlotte smiled and waved her off. 

"Alright then, see you when you get back." Frisk was already out the door. 

She didn't make it two blocks before a hand snatched her off the street and into an alleyway. Frisk screamed as she was slammed against the wall. Her breaths were heavy, eyes wide as her vision blurred.  _ Is this how I die!?  _ She tried to stifle the faint glow of her soul. A dead giveaway. 

"Shut up!" It was a woman. She didn't seem at all concerned with the faint pulse of red just underneath Frisk's heavy, winter coat. 

Frisk growled under her breath and hit the woman in the side with her knee. She gasped as the air was knocked out of her, and the hold on Frisk was loosened.  _ Bet you weren't expecting a fight.  _

"I'm not losing to a fucking  _ tiefling!"  _ The woman's fist hit her in the stomach. Frisk stumbled away and Flowey rose from her jacket. 

"What the hell?" He whispered. Frisk shook her head and staggered to her feet as the bunny chased her into the street. A small crowd gathered out of curiosity and… simple boredom. Not much exciting happened in a small town like Snowden. 

"Yo! Chick fight!" Hollered the armless, teenage delinquent. Frisk weaved away as the bunny that she recognized as the peach bunny from Grillby's threw sloppy punch after sloppy punch. 

"Hold still!" She growled. Frisk spun behind her and landed two blows to her back side that were enough to put her off balance. 

The two doubled over as they caught their breath. Flowey shrunk under her coat, but she could feel the sensation of his magic against the hairs of her neck. 

"I don't know what he sees in you. You're fucking deformed… unless you aren't, and you're just trying to score pity points. Let's see what you really look like underneath that little mask of yours,  _ Moxie,"  _ she spat.  _ This is ridiculous,  _ thought Frisk as the bunny girl lunged for her. The monsters snarled in excitement, hungry for entertainment. Frisk tripped the bunny and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt to keep her from going down.  _ So this… is this about Sans? Jesus fucking Christ.  _

The realization put a falter in her step as she felt pity for the Lapine girl. The bunny however, took it as the opportunity to tackle her. Frisk felt Flowey about to launch a barrage of bullets. 

"Let me handle this," she hissed. He immediately stalled and watched with anxious impatience as she wrestled with the woman. She gasped as she felt the bunny pry her mask up.  _ No no no!  _ Who cared about Sans, this bitch was about to expose her humanity! Her heart pounded. She screamed as she slapped the girl across the face and grappled with her chin. 

"Just take it off!" 

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOIN' ON HERE!?" Frisk shouted and shoved the bunny off of her as the soldiers swept in. She held her mask to her face. Her breaths came in heavy gasps for air as her heart raced a million miles a second. She had almost been exposed. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _

Doug ripped the bunny girl off of her feet and held her up.  _ My fuckin' savior. Holy shit.  _

"What do ya f'ink your doin', Alice? Messin' with Ms. Valentine? You do realize if the brotha's found out they would rip ya to shreds," he tossed her down and spared a look at Frisk.  _ Alice  _ shot a poisonous glare at Frisk. 

"She's got her fuckin claws in him—"

"What are ya talkin' about? Everyone go about your business, nothin' ta see here. Ms. Valentine—"

"She's got her claws in every single one of you! I just want to know why. Why are  _ you _ so special, and not me?" She spat the question directly at Frisk. 

_ Poor girl…  _ thought Frisk as pity welled in her soul. 

"We had a good thing going—"

"That's enough—"

"—And then you came! And you fucked it all up for me. Everyone is obsessed with you. It's not fair." Alice was on the verge of tears. Doug growled under his breath, but Frisk held up her hand. Alice watched with confusion as he immediately obeyed as if she were his master and he was just a house pet. 

"Alice? It's Alice right?" Alice looked away, a stubborn frown on her pretty face. She really was pretty. 

"I'm so sorry for what you're going through, believe me, I know exactly how you feel… But I'm not the root of your problems, hurting me isn't going to solve anything. It's only going to make you feel worse." Doug watched her with fascination as she seemed to soothe the storm. All the monsters who lingered in the square were looking to her like she was the second coming of Jesus Christ.  _ Amazing. She  _ is  _ the angel,  _ thought Doug. 

Alice sniffed and looked down as tears flooded her eyes. 

"I just feel so used. Like a toy. A used toy."  _ And he's done playing with you…  _

"I understand… believe me, I understand. In fact, I think you and I have a lot in common…" Alice wiped her eyes and looked up at her. 

"What?" Frisk nodded. She forgave Alice for her attack. Sometimes people got angry and jealous and they didn't know who to point their finger at. What they all needed to learn was to put the finger down and grow past it. Pick each other up, and stop knocking each other down. 

"You look like someone who could use a friend. A real one… find me when you come around. Maybe we can talk. One  _ toy  _ to the other," she whispered. Alice's big, blue eyes widened as they came to a shaky understanding. 

She looked around before dodging into the shadows of an alleyway to hide from prying eyes. Frisk sighed and turned away. She still needed to get Charlotte her block of ice. She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed Doug fall into step behind her. An unofficial bodyguard.  _ Used toys. A couple of used toys. Why do I keep falling for the same shit every time? I hope Alice comes around.  _

"You're not a toy… Frisk," whispered Doug when they were alone. She glanced up, startled by his presence. Did he know something she didn't? She knew he was close with Sans.  _ I don't want to know how bad he's feeling. I don't want to care. _ She glanced away, simply too exhausted to talk any further. She wanted this day to be over. She wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again. 

She reached up and ran her hand through his thick fur, almost subconsciously. The two walked in silence, both comprehending what had happened in much different ways. An Angel. A used toy. A  _ human _ . 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Doug is honestly the real MVP. I love him with all my heart. 
> 
> Up Next: Following up on Nick. Sans and Frisk come to some kind of understanding.


	31. Frostgate and Superstition

**A/N: Hello you guys! This story is getting a lot of good reception! Thank you all so much!**

**Some folks created fanart, so I want to share some of it, along with some of my own art, cause I made more.**

**[Ninachua93's art ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/sS7pXozg5GhYu1PDA) **

**[Rooftop Scene fanart](https://photos.app.goo.gl/44kmg1uq6wwTDBeAA) **

**My art:**

**[Frisk concept art](https://photos.app.goo.gl/aD6bn55hdrxhwSyb7) **

**[Frisk's "Moxie" Disguise ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/ypwueG9KazAuh3189) **

**Alright, period. I love fanart and I love artists. You guys are amazing! If _you_ have fanart I would love to see it and shower it with adoration. If you post on Tumblr, please tag it WDYW so that I can find it! **

**Now without further ado, Chapter 31~**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-One: Frostgate and Superstition

* * *

Frostgate Prison was a bleak grey stain on the Winter Wood. The walls were covered in frost and a lookout tower was ever watchful. Soon it would have to be emptied, and Nick would be one of the prisoners to die if they couldn't find some way of getting him out. 

Thankfully, they had successfully gotten him transferred. It didn't take much, just an empty glare from Sans as Papyrus rambled on about how Nick was born and raised in Snowden, so it was only right he died in Snowden. It had done the trick. 

Nick trailed behind them as Sans and Papyrus led him through the corridors. The cogs were turning in Papyrus's head. Nick had helped raise him when he and Sans ran away from home. The brothers had few friends, and Nick was one of them. Although he had always been closer to Sans, Papyrus had a soft spot for him. He couldn't just let him die in the Purge, or rot away in Red Rock, the prison in Hotland. He couldn't let another monster who was close to him die at the King's hand. Angelican or not. 

Papyrus and Sans took Nick into a detainment room to talk. Sans was left alone as Papyrus went to the security room to make sure no one would be listening in. 

When Sans was sure they were good, he let out a heavy sigh. Everything was happening all at once. Nick wouldn't look at him. 

"So… I'm gonna guess you were lying when you said you were just getting snow past the border," he murmured. Nick's ear twitched, his eyes shifting around nervously. Sans took his silence as a yes. 

"You know we're gonna try and get you out, right?" Nick winced and shot a withering look at his friend. 

"It's not me who needs out. It's the ones trapped in the arena who are about to fight for the death and lose the last shred of dignity they have," he spat. Sans stepped back and lifted his chin, his eyes narrowing as he studied Nick. 

"Well I can't do a lot for them. But we can help you. My only question, really…when? When did you join  _ them?"  _ He asked. 

Nick swallowed and looked away. Sans pulled up a chair and sat, leaning over the back as he observed him. 

"When… Papyrus was promoted to lieutenant… and you, uhm… beat the shit out of the General. I don't know, I just lost hope and… then I found him." It stung to know Nick had lost hope because of him.  _ Who's he talking about?  _

"Who's  _ him?"  _ He asked. Nick twitched and avoided Sans's eyes. Some part of him was terrified of being on the receiving end of his black glare. 

"I can't tell you that…Not here," he whispered. Sans nodded knowingly and glanced back. Nick was shivering with cold. No wonder; the prison was intentionally kept at frozen temperatures. It didn't bother Sans for the simple reason he didn't have skin. 

"No I get it… listen… I'm gonna get you out. Papyrus and I are gonna get you out, but you have to lay low for a while. Stay in Snowden. I'll find you somewhere you can hide—"

"—You don't understand I can't stay here. They need me—"

"—God damnit, don't be stupid. The Purge is three days away." 

Saying it out loud knocked the wind out of him. They would empty the prisons, hospitals and nursing homes out the morning of the Purge. The casualties would be rounded up and walked to their death. Like some sick parade. Tomorrow would be the Equinox Olympics where the last gladiators would battle it out. Their winnings went to their families, but they would die the next day. Sans felt sick. 

"You think I don't know? Undyne is planning something against the Angelicans. I need to warn him, but I'm stuck in here," he whispered, his fist hitting the metal table. Sans's grin grew into a taut grimace and he shook his head. 

"Not for long. We just have to be smart."  _ I've been doing a lot of stupid things and I just have to be smart about this, Nick.  _

"Times up. We have to get him to a cell," grunted Papyrus as he barged into the detainment room. Sans flinched and Nick's ears drooped. 

"Worry not, friend…" murmured Papyrus as he pulled out handcuffs. Nick swallowed and shot a pitiful look at Sans. He needed help. Sans couldn't just let his friend down again. Not again. He had to do what was right. 

"Wait, Nick… let me warm him, whoever he is. You can trust me just…" Nick's eyes widened and he glanced at Papyrus. Papyrus shot a look at Sans. 

"I don't think…ok… find Bob. He lives in Waterfall, uh specifically, Village Tem. He'll get the message to him. Tell him Undyne knows where their hideout is, she's planning something on the Purge and they need to be ready." Sans nodded hastily as Papyrus pulled him away. 

And then Nick was gone. Sans felt himself shake. Oh his life was falling apart. 

"I'm going to stay here and see how I can get him out," whispered Papyrus when he returned. Sans nodded, he knew what he had to do. With that, the brothers parted ways. 

  
  


⁂

Red smoke unfurled in the outskirts of a small little village surrounded on all sides with the murky swamplands and fields of grass that cluttered Waterfall. Village Tem. The armpit of waterfall, but the production town of Temmie Flakes… the  _ only  _ brand of cereal. Everyone here was so weird. Sans hated it, but he had to do this for Nick. It was the least he could do.  _ Bit of an understatement. You can get in serious trouble.  _

Sans shook off the uneasy feeling Waterfall gave him. This was after all, Undyne's realm. He sighed. It was humid. He shouldered off his jacket and hung it over the crook of his elbow. It was probably best he wasn't wearing the mark of his uniform, even though everyone knew who he was. 

He half-jogged, half-walked down the dirt road that cut through the little town. A few scattered houses with tin roofs. A little schoolhouse that was falling apart brick by brick. Village Tem may have been the center of Temmie Flakes, but that brand was sold to Mettaton ages ago. They made crumbs of the money they should've been making. 

"Hoi there sir, you look lost," said a chipper voice that made Sans jump with shock. The voice giggled. It was a little girl. 

"I'm not lost… know a guy named Bob?" He asked as he looked around. The girl skipped backwards as she followed Sans. 

"Oh yeah, he's my papa." Sans glanced at her.  _ Well isn't that convenient.  _

"Well I need to talk to him," he said. The girl crossed her arms as she studied him. Her eyes narrowed. 

"You're a skeleton… Papa said we couldn't trust skeletons," she said with a smirk. Sans tilted his head as he studied her.  _ Smug little bitch.  _

"It's important," he said. She hummed and jumped up onto a railroad tie, arms held out as she kept her balance. 

"Did the Guard send you?" She asked. Sans cocked a brow and crossed his arms. 

"That's a suspicious thing to say—"

"—Well Papa don't like the guard, and the only skeletons  _ left _ are in the guard." Sans glared at the ground. 

"Don't remind me," he murmured. She hopped down and crossed her arms. 

"Which one are you? The tall scary one or the big scary one?" Sans chuckled wryly at her questions. He didn't have time for this. He needed to deliver Nick's message. 

"Big scary one… and you're gonna tell the big, scary skeleton where to find your dad," he growled. She faltered as she stared into the bottomless pits of his black sockets. 

"Temmie! Get away from him!" Sans looked up, his black glare falling on an older monster who looked exactly like the little girl except a bit bigger…and with a beard.  _ Temmie  _ ran off, but Sans paid little mind to her. So was this Bob? 

Bob fell to his knees in a desperate kneel. 

"Please! Please spare my daughter! Please spare my village! We've done nothing illegal, please don't reap our souls!" He begged.  _ Looks like someone has heard all the wrong stories about reapers.  _ Sans swayed on his feet in annoyance. Might as well have some fun. 

"Harvest is comin' soon… I just forgot my scythe. Should've brought it. Your times almost up, Bob," he said mournfully, trying to fight back the cruel delight creeping in his eyes. Bob moaned with fear and looked around at his town. His eyes were the size of golf balls. Before he could say anything more, Sans chuckled shittily. 

"I'm pulling your leg. I'm friends with Nick, know him?" He asked.

Bob gasped as his face lit up with familiarity. "Nick! Nick Creamer? The icecream man? What did you do to him!?"

Sans growled. He hated dealing with superstitious idiots. 

"Listen dumbass, Nick needs you to pass a message to um… he didn't say his name… but… come here." Sans reached out and pulled Bob into a plume of his red smoke. 

"Undyne knows where the Angelican hideout is… she's gonna make a move on the day of the Purge. Nick said you would get the message across," he said with a curt nod as they arrived in a field a mile away from the little town. Bob gasped for air and choked as he regained his breath. Sans remembered that it usually took others a while to recover from teleporting. He sighed in exasperation. 

When Bob was done, he repeated himself. Bob's eyes widened. 

"Is this some kind of trap? I have nothing to do with the Angelicans, I swear. We just let them use the barn sometimes—I didn't say that! Please, please don't take me to jail. Not this close to the Purge, please. Temmie needs me," he pleaded. Sans growled. 

"Just get the message across!" He snarled. That shut him up. Bob glanced up, his eyes wide. 

"I'll…I'll give him the message—"

"—And don't tell anyone I was here…  _ or else,"  _ he growled. Bob nodded hastily. 

"Yes sir… no one will know.  _ Or else."  _ Sans nodded in satisfaction. His job was done. He needed to get home. He needed to be alone. No, what he really wanted was to see  _ her… _ maybe seeing her would fix… _ That's ridiculous.  _ He glanced back at Bob and nodded. The two shared a hint of understanding, before Sans was shrouded in red smoke. 

⁂

Frisk was lost in thought as she made dinner. So much had happened that day. She couldn't stop thinking about Alice. She was the bunny who had always been excited to see Sans only for him to ignore her.  _ Jesus, am I in the same boat as her?  _ She was infuriated. 

She gasped when the knife she was using to cut potatoes slit her finger. She practically yowled with pain and staggered away from the cutting board.  _ Shit!  _

" _ Oh putain de bordel, merde. MERDE!"  _ she cursed as she ran to the sink and put her bleeding hand under a stream of cold water. It stung as the water rinsed away the blood. It wasn't a big cut. No bone was showing. It was about as deep as a paper cut… but  _ shit  _ it hurt like hell! 

The back door opened and she stiffened as the brothers filed in. She glanced over her shoulder as Sans stalled near the archway. 

"You ok?"  _ Get the fuck out, I don't want to be near you.  _

"Fine, fine. Do we have any Band-aids?  _ Fuck _ ." She grumbled. Papyrus furrowed his brow. 

"Band-aids? Why would monsters have Band-aids? We don't bleed," he chortled as if she were stupid for not knowing. She rolled her eyes and reached for a rag. She was  _ not _ in the mood. She didn't want to talk to either of them. 

"I'll get you somethin'."  _ Oh don't be helpful  _ now,  _ Sans,  _ she thought bitterly as he jogged off to the basement. She scoffed and hunched over her finger. It stung like a bitch. 

Papyrus shrugged and went upstairs to his room, he had other troubles to worry about. A moment passed as Frisk stood in the kitchen, the rag she was using as a makeshift gauze was stained red.

"Here, let me help," murmured Sans as he walked in. He looked to be deep in thought. She flinched away from him. 

"Don't touch me," she whispered. He paused, his eyes narrowing at her. She glanced up at him, her breath hitching in her throat. God he was close.  _ No no no.  _ Her soul burned traitorously in her chest and she pursed her lips. Sans tilted his head and grabbed her hand. She didn't fight. 

She watched with bated breath as he wrapped her finger in a strange bandage. She recalled when he dressed her gun shot wound. Where had he learned to do that kind of stuff? 

"We need to talk," he murmured, barely audible. Frisk bit her lip and glanced up at him. She was so mad at him… so why was her entire body so hot with desire? 

She merely hummed in response.  _ You seem happily content with not talking to me. I mean, technically speaking, you have a lot to explain. Like, who's Alice…  _ she thought bitterly, but cut her inner dialogue off when she realized she was actually starting to feel jealous. Sans shot her a look that almost made her feel like he had heard the thought. He sighed and bit the gauze in half. She swallowed at the move and glanced away. 

"I've been an asshole…I never meant for last night to happen. I was drunk—"

"—I know, I'm the idiot that fell for it," she murmured. Sans hesitated as he clipped the bandage. It had a strange texture, probably more meant for dust than blood. He glanced up at her. 

"You're not an idiot… things are really complicated. I don't know how to make things better… I don't know if it's worth making things better. I just have a lot of shit going on right now and I was trying not to involve you. And then last night happened." Frisk listened. She didn't know why she wanted this so badly, she should've been furious. She wanted his company and attention. She wanted to listen to him talk forever. She recalled when they had been making food together and he had told her about taking care of his brother. She wanted to see more of that side of him. 

"I just feel used," she murmured. Sans sighed and glanced down at her hand. He was still holding it. Frisk felt heat flourish in her stomach and she looked up at him. 

"I know, and that's my fault. I… I _hate_ that I made you feel that way. I'm so _sorry_ ," he whispered. She shook her head. He had never apologized for the shit he had done to her, but something about the way he said it made her feel like he was apologizing for _everything._ _I can't wrap my head around him._ Her head buzzed with warring thoughts. On one hand she was still upset at him, on the other… he was close… she could feel the growl in his voice. They shared a heavy, _hungry_ look. 

She couldn't remember who moved first, but one second they had been trapped in a staring contest, the next, she was pressed against him, his teeth biting desperately at her lips. She melted in his embrace, her soul humming with content, as if this was where she was always meant to be. 

They staggered back against the counter, and she moaned softly into his mouth as he pressed against her. They couldn't be close enough. They drove each other crazy. She didn't understand the craving they had for each other, but she definitely knew it was there. God, she needed him. For that moment she forgot that she was supposed to be mad. 

He hummed a disconcerting note and pushed himself away. She froze as his presence was replaced by cold air. He leaned against the kitchen island; her eyes were wide at the rejection. 

"Shit… you're really makin' this hard," he murmured. She wiped her tender lips. What were they doing? What was  _ she  _ doing?  _ Making what hard? Why can't you just get over yourself and kiss me? Stop playing games with me.  _ She halted her thoughts when she realized just how greedy and selfish they were. He was going through something right now and all she cared about was herself. The realization was like a slap in the face. 

She glanced up at him and smiled weakly. She'd been selfish for a good part of her life… so… like many cycles, she'd have to break that as well. She had no idea what he'd been through. What if he was just as traumatized by love as she was? It was hard to see the opposite's side, but she wanted to see his. 

"It's ok…I'm sorry. Whatever you're going through right now… just know that I'm here if you need… someone to talk to," she said, and the more she spoke, the more she realized she meant it, wholeheartedly. She didn't just desire him, she cared for him too. She really did. His eyelights flickered as he gazed at her. His grin was soft, serious. Frisk had looked at that grin for so long that she was starting to recognize the subtle changes in expression. 

"I…" he trailed off. She hesitantly stepped away and looked at the potatoes she had been chopping. She had lost her appetite. He watched her as she put them into a Tupperware and filled that with water so they wouldn't  oxidize . She put them in the fridge and ran her tongue along her lip. It tasted like iron. 

"Just stop ignoring me," she said. Sans chuckled softly and nodded. 

"Deal…" he murmured. She smiled sadly and wished him goodnight as she made her way upstairs. She cared about him… and she knew he cared about her too. In his weird little way. He just needed time..? He needed… someone to be there for him. That was the least she could do. Maybe once the purge was over they could… work things out. 

As she lay down, she came to a startling realization.  _ I’m falling in love with him… shit.  _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: They finally have somewhat of a conversation! Also, Temmie Village made a cameo. 
> 
> Up Next: We follow the story of a certain Tabaxi (yes I use DnD races don't @ me) during the Equinox Olympics.


	32. The Arena

**A/N: Hello you guys! We have more fanart to share! I'm so happy you guys are supporting the story like this!**

**This was made by Manekineko! Thank you!**

**[Sans and Frisk fanart](https://photos.app.goo.gl/PtyNV7cdv7Mrr235A) **

**And this is a little... Softcore NSFW thing that I drew (nothing too sexual)**

**[Sans and Frisk](https://photos.app.goo.gl/6V6kGsPB32fSRzFv5) **

**Anyway, you guys are awesome! If you have fanart, I'd love to see it, and if you post it on Tumblr, again, please tag it WDYW so I can find it! ^-^**

**Please enjoy Chapter 32~~**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Arena 

* * *

"It's a beautiful day to die today! Hello Dahlings! Welcome to the Equinox Olympics! I am your host, Mettaton! Today is a momentous occasion! My brand new movie is debuting in theaters only two days from now! You will finally see my new body! Ahem… I was just told there was _another_ momentous occasion… today certain prisoners have been given the chance to fight for their life and be spared the Purge. How cute!" Mettaton turned when the cameras cut off of him and he glanced up at one of his stage managers. 

"You're fired—"

"—What!?" Mettaton waved him away and sat back down. Two security guards barged in and dragged him out of the booth. 

"The next person who corrects me on live television is getting thrown in the rink with the gladiators. Understood, dahlings?" He spat. The stage hands nodded hastily and gulped at the threat. 

Kathy Baxi sat in the back of the booth. It was her job to pamper Mettaton and get him anything his soul desired. She hated him. Ever since she was auditioned into his ranks… audition was an understatement. She hadn't even been made into an actress. Just a measly assistant… and she had lost a part of her. It was hard to see herself in a respectful light ever since. 

"BAXI! I want a hamburger. Be a dear, go to the resort and get me an MTT hamburger. Let's see some hustle! —And we're back! Aaron Stronghold is _holding_ his place as Arena champion! Oh, it looks like they're sending in the manticore. How exciting! Whoever wins this round will go up against the first lucky prisoner!" Kathy trailed out of the booth and made her way out into the city. God, she was going to have to take the ferry to the Core. Kathy hated Hotland. 

Large crowds gathered in the streets as jumbo screens played the battles out to the public who couldn't afford live seats. It was hard to ignore, but she tried anyway. Her father had been a gladiator, and the meaningless bloodshed sickened her. 

As she made her way to Sodom Avenue, she heard screaming. _What's going on?_ She turned the corner and froze. A riot had broken out. 

She gasped as a large, eight-armed elephant threw a Molotov cocktail at the jumbo screen. Some monsters shoved past her and she gasped as she was knocked to the ground. _Shit, I have to get to the subway, I can't be caught here!_

Kathy climbed up to her feet and sprinted down the raucous street. Riot police charged the road and she quickly dodged out of their way. The jumbo screen exploded, knocking several people to the ground. Other rioters made a break for it and she gasped as she practically dove into the subway. 

"Shit, like, when's the next ferry coming?" She growled to herself as she looked behind her. The river Styx, as it was called ironically, sloshed against the paved waterway. The water was murky, black and stunk of sulfur. To be fair, everything stunk of sulfur in Hotland. It was hell's equivalent to the River Thames, at least until it got to the Core and then it was purified and cleaned in the Water plantation. 

Of course, Kathy cared not for this. What she _did_ care about was when the damn ferry was going to come. She held her nose as she checked the schedule and paid for her fare. Unlike reapers, everyone else had to travel around the Underground the long way. That meant Riverman Ferry Services. _Five minutes… ok, I'm sure Mettaton won't begrudge me the time…_ She wasn't sure, but it was nice to tell herself comforting lies. 

The ferry came right on time and she quickly got on. It was crowded, and she squeezed in like the last sardine in a tin can. Ugh, she could smell the sulfurous gas emanating from the man next to her. She recoiled as best she could whilst trying not to bump against another patron. 

"Did you hear they snagged a couple of Angelicans? Those are the prisoners who are getting a free ticket from the Purge. If anyone deserves to be freed from the Purge, it's Aaron Stronghold. He's awesome. It sucks he's gonna get executed anyway." murmured someone behind her. 

"Would you shut up? You never know who's listening," growled his friend. 

"Would you stop being so paranoid?" Kathy rolled her eyes, but there was no escape, so she had no choice but to eavesdrop. At least it got her mind off the stress of angering her boss. 

"I am not being paranoid, MK. You can't say that name in public." 

"What name? _Angelicans?_ OooOoOOoo, so scary. Grow up, Archie—" 

"—You grow up!" The two boys groaned at each other, and other passengers shifted uncomfortably at the dangerous topic. An older monster shushed them, which did the job. Kathy was secretly grateful. She hated politics. 

It wasn't too long until a deep, whispering voice addressed the passengers and informed them they had arrived in the Core. She bolted out from the ferry faster than a Hellhound on the hunt and raced up the subway stairs. Oh, the Core. Fashion capital of the Underworld. 

Jumbo screens were also playing the Equinox Olympics. She watched with a sick twinge in her stomach as the Manticore slaughtered Aaron Stronghold. At least he died in the Arena and not in the Purge. Maybe it was better that he went down in the glory of battle. However inglorious the Arena was. 

She shook away the thought as she made her way through the city. She flagged down a cab, the horses snorting as the driver pulled them to a halt. She quickly climbed in and gave him her destination. Did he really have to have a burger from the resort? There were plenty of burger joints in Hotland. _Probably a promotional thing._ That's definitely what it was. 

When they arrived at the gilded resort, she quickly paid the cab driver and jumped out. It was hard to run in heels, especially when her feline feet weren't made for them, but Mettaton insisted all his female employees wear stilettos. And then he sent them on these ridiculous errands. _Fucking bastard._

Kathy moved through the revolving door and jogged through the ginormous lobby. The lobby of which was basically a mini mall, and surrounded on all sides by hotel rooms and apartments for staff. It was basically a tiny city in the middle of a bigger city.

There was even a "surface room" that let viewers see and feel "sunlight," "starry nights," "the oceans and beaches" and the "natural breeze." All for top dollar of course. Poorer monsters barely ever got to enjoy the Surface Room. Kathy expected that Mettaton used it the most. He and his unhealthy obsession with humans and their culture was telling in almost everything he did and promoted. She was surprised King Dreemur let it slip.

Eventually, after swimming through crowds of aristocrats and business people, she finally made it to MTT Burger Emporium. Kathy glanced up from her watch to see an oddly familiar, young, orange tabaxi smoking on the job. She looked up to see a _no smoking_ sign hung up behind him. 

"Shit—" he quickly put out the cigarette and threw it away with a sheepish grin that read _please-don't-get-me-fired._ She could've sworn she'd seen him somewhere. "Welcome to MTT Burger Emporium, home of the Glamburger, how can I take your order?" Kathy smiled at him. She glanced at his name tag. _Burgerpants?_

"Burgerpants… is that like, your actual name?" She asked as she approached the counter. Suddenly her eyes were lit with familiarity. _Oh shit, I_ do _know him!_

His eyes darkened and he shook his head. 

"No—" 

"—Oh hey, I remember you!—"

"—Oh… great—"

"—You're that kid that tried to steal hamburgers from the emporium and…" she trailed off when she saw his eyes shift away. His ear was torn, and he had several burn marks that rendered parts of his body hairless. He really… didn't look good. 

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that." Kathy had always been the more sympathetic one in her small friend group. Brittany would've been cackling right now. Part of her was a little relieved she was with her mom and not at work. _Oh this is awkward._

"It's fine. I wear it as a badge of shame. Now, what can I do for you?" He asked as he scratched the back of his neck. _He's kind of cute. I think that's the only reason he's still working here._ She stepped back and looked up at the menu. 

"Signature Glamburger… it's for Mettaton," she said. His eyes widened, hackles bristled, and he nodded hastily. 

"I'm on it," he breathed. Was he the only one working right now? She watched as he entered the order into the system and went to the back. She swayed and checked her watch. She left around three thirty… and now it was four twenty. She had made good time, but if she took a full hour, Mettaton would surely find some way to make her miserable. He wouldn't hear the excuse of "I got caught in a riot and the ferry wasn't there immediately when I got there." 

Burgerpants, or whatever his name was, quickly jumped back to the front and placed the paper bag down in front of her. _Great that took… ten minutes, shit._

"Hey, you're Kathy, right?" He asked. She nodded and pulled out her wallet to pay. 

"Yep," she murmured as she counted through her money. 

"Oh cool… cool." Did he need something? She shot him a curious look as she handed him the appropriate amount. Shit why were Glamburgers so expensive? Of course it was coming out of her own pocket. He took the money and got her change. With that their transaction was through, and she turned to leave. 

"It's Bryan by the way… good luck with the Robofreak—don't tell him I said that!" Kathy giggled and waved goodbye to him. 

"I won't. See ya round, Bryan," she said with a wink. She smiled to herself until she looked down at her watch. _Four twenty-five, he's gonna kill me!_

⁂

"Ugh where is that damn Tabaxi with my Glamburger already!? It's been over an hour!" Whined Mettaton just as Kathy entered the booth. 

"Sorry it took me longer than you'd like, sir, there was a—"

."—FINALLY! It better still be warm." He snatched the bag away from her and pulled out the glittery pink burger that was probably the most inedible thing to grace the Underground. Kathy lowered her ears and slunk away before he could reprimand her. She jumped when he grabbed the scruff of her neck like a mother Tabaxi would with her children. 

"Not so fast, why were you so late? And where is my soda?" He asked. Kathy's eyes widened and she looked around desperately for someone who would stand up for her. Everyone turned away. No way in hell were they gonna risk their careers for a lowly assistant like her. 

"I—there was a riot a-a-and, the ferry—"

"—I don't want to hear your excuses." _You asked…_ There was no winning with this entitled prick, was there? She forced a smile on her face and nodded. Shit, was she going to get fired? 

"Yes sir, I'm sorry—"

"Catty, it's Catty right?" He pulled her aside, his hand still firmly clamped on the scruff of her neck. Her name was not Catty, but she had learned by now that he could call her whatever he wanted… and he didn't like being corrected. 

"Listen, Catty, I like you. You're a pretty girl. I don't want to fire you, but we have to nip this kind of lackadaisical behavior in the ass before it grows into a bigger problem. Now, I'm sure you can make it up to me…" he let the suggestion hang in the air, before he pat her on the back. She swallowed the lump growing in her throat. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do. 

She watched with narrowed eyes and grit teeth as he returned to his seat and the cameras flashed on as they returned from their commercial break. No one met her gaze, too ashamed and disgusted with what they knew she'd have to do. She missed Brittany. _Brittany_ would've been there for her. Now she was just alone. 

"The Manticore has disposed of prisoner one-A. Will prisoner two-A have the slimmest of chances?" 

⁂

The Arena was hot and reeked of dust and sulfur. She was not meant to be in this climate. She was not meant to be _here_ . Bianca Drake was shoved into the red, dusty arena and gasped to regain the wind that was knocked from her lungs. _Get up, get up!_ She screamed at herself. 

Her feathers drooped with the heat, and she could feel the natural ice in her body melt as the river of magma that sliced through the Arena billowed heat into her face. Her frantic eyes searched for a weapon to protect herself with; the Manticore paced impatiently. The round hadn't started yet, it wasn't until the geyser blew that they were allowed to get weapons and attack each other. For now, she was allowed to familiarize herself with the Arena. There was barely anywhere she could hide. That was by design. 

Bianca was shaking. The crowds surrounding her were cheering with bloodlust. She had been praying for a savior. She had hoped that Nick had gotten to Gerson. She even held out a small sliver of hope that someone would swoop in and save her. No one would save her now. She was terrified. 

As an Angelican, she had sworn off fighting. Angelicans rejected the Kill or be Killed rhetoric. That pacifist way of life would not serve her in the arena. The best she could hope for was that the Manticore would slip into the magma and burn to death, but unlike her, this beast lived and breathed the Arena. 

The geyser erupted and without even reaching for a weapon, the Manticore sprung forth. She sprinted away and stretched her silvery wings in a desperate attempt to escape. Snowdrakes were flightless however, the chance of staying in the air was a far-fetched idea. 

Her heart thundered in her ears. She could practically feel the Manticore's hot breath against her neck as he gained on her. She stumbled to the ground and flung her icy, knife like feathers at him—a Snowdrake's one defense. He bat them away with a snarl and leaped onto her, his scorpions tail striking her in the stomach. She gasped at the scorching pain. 

Bianca cried out in a desperate attempt to fight for her life. She lunged upright to viciously peck at him and claw at him with her talons. She had to get out of here! She had to… 

The Manticore swiped his giant claws across her face and she hit the ground, dust pouring out of her cheek. Her face was screaming in pain and she croaked. The crowd was growing bored at just how easily she was being killed. She cried out as the Manticore's jaws enclosed around her neck. Tears sprung into her eyes as she tried desperately to push him off. 

Her eyes dimmed as his fangs sank into her neck, dust spilled out. There was no glory in the Arena. There were no heroes. There was only dust and wasted life. Bianca Drake would've been a wasted life… 

However, as her dying corpse was dragged out, it was put on a stretcher. That stretcher was put into a chariot to join the fellow Angelican who had fallen at the fangs of the Manticore. 

A hand, scaled and yellow, ran through Bianca's icy feathers and a hum filled the chariot. 

"This will do. Greetings number two. Classification… _Snowdrake._ It'll be an honor to work with you," sniffled a meek voice. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A nice break from our usual programming! I personally adore side characters and NPCs so I wanted to explore some of their personal life. We'll be seeing more of Bryan eventually. 
> 
> Up Next: Frisk has a little chat with Alice.


	33. New Friends

Chapter Thirty-Three: New Friends 

* * *

_ It was loud. It shouldn't have been loud at this hour, and yet, the warring shrieks of his parents filled the house. Sans didn't really listen to the words being viciously thrown back and forth downstairs. He was too busy hugging his baby brother close and hushing him.  _

_ "Make them stop, Sans," pleaded Papyrus. Sans shook his head and stared at his door. He had never heard his parents fight like this. He didn't even really remember how it started. Something about Papyrus not having eaten dinner and then now… total chaos.  _

_ He winced as a glass exploded. Papyrus whimpered and looked up at his brother.  _

_ "Are they trying to kill each other?" He whispered frantically. Sans shook his head.  _

_ "No, no, of course not." But at this point, even he really wasn't sure anymore.  _

_ The front door slammed shut and a dreadful hush fell over the house.  _

_ "Is it over?" Whimpered Papyrus. Sans squeezed his brother and slid off of the bed.  _

_ "Where are you going?" Sans held his hand up as he timidly approached his door and unlocked it. He glanced back up at Papyrus.  _

_ "I'm going to need you to be brave… I'm going to um, make sure they didn't break your cup." Papyrus nodded slowly as he watched Sans slip away. He curled up and pulled the covers up to his chin.  _

_ Sans crept down the stairs, his eyes narrowed deliberately as he ran through the scenarios in his mind. He knew that his father had left in a rage. His father always teleported away when he got stressed. Sans assumed it was to go clear his head. His mother was always the one to stay and pick up the broken pieces. They fought often, but never as viciously as tonight.  _

_ He peered into the kitchen. His mother was sitting in the informal dining room, her face hidden in her hands. She looked utterly defeated.  _

_ "Mom..?" He whispered. Lydian looked up with abyssal eyes. The lights flickered back on when she realized who was there.  _

_ "I'm sorry," she murmured. He lingered near the archway and studied her. Finally, he broke his gaze and looked around at the kitchen which was in disarray. A plate had been smashed, the glass scattering the floor. So they hadn't touched Papyrus's cup. Good.  _

_ "You ok?" He asked. Lydian nodded slowly and ran a hand over her skull.  _

_ "I'll be fine. Your father and I still love each other… things are just getting scary and he's… distracted and we're both working tirelessly—" _

_ "—No, I get it…" Or at least, he tried to get it. Lydian frowned.  _

_ "Sans… you need to be there for your brother, no matter what, understand? At the end of day, you only have each other." Sans nodded. He understood. Lydian's eyes softened and she stood up. They lingered and Sans wished she would embrace him, but she kept her distance.  _

_ It was then, as she turned away, that he saw the ulcer blistering and cracking through the bone of her neck. Sans stepped back and tried to hide his panic.  _

_ "Goodnight, mom," he said hastily. Lydian nodded and waved him off. He let out a breath and ran upstairs. When he made it back into his room, Papyrus jolted up, his eyes wide.  _

_ "Sans?" He whispered. Sans nodded and climbed back up onto the bed. His mind was racing with thoughts. His mother was infected with the plague.  _

_ Papyrus scooted closer and clung onto him as if he would turn to dust any other second. Sans wrapped an arm around his younger brother.  _

_ "I'm scared Sans. Everything's falling apart," he whispered. Sans gritted his teeth. That was certainly true. He couldn't be weak in front of his brother, however. Papyrus needed someone to be a rock. Someone to protect him.  _

_ "Hey… you still have me. I'm always gonna be there for you, and I'll… I'll make sure no one ever hurts you," he said softly. Papyrus nodded and closed his eyes.  _

_ "No, I'm going to protect  _ you _ , I am the great Papyrus, after all," he said with a yawn. Sans rolled his eyes and smiled softly. Even in the darkest moments, there was a small light. For a long time Papyrus was Sans's only light.  _

_ "Sure thing."  _

⁂

"And one, two, three, four,  _ une, dues,  _ three, four,  _ lève tes bras,  _ I mean lift your arms. You're doing great!" It was a simple routine that the small bunny would have no problem learning. A Pas de Bourree followed by a chassé, ending with a half turn. Lola was an extremely fast learner. Frisk summed it up to her Lapine dexterity. It made her think about how baby deer could run by the time they're born.

"I'm getting tired," grumbled Lola. Frisk nodded and glanced at the clock. 

"Alright, we're almost done. Let's stop and stretch. A bit of a cool down if you will," she said with a wink. Lola giggled and the two sat down. 

"Alright, let's do butterflies," she said as she put her feet together. Lola giggled as the two fluttered their legs like butterfly wings. Frisk smiled softly to herself. A small pang of sadness hit her soul when she remembered her miscarriage. She had wanted a daughter. When she was married to Damian, they had tried for children, but it never worked. Eventually when things got bad, she secretly took birth control. She had never had the chance to have a child. She had never had the lifestyle to have a child. It weighed on her soul.

"And now we'll do the rainbow stretch," she said as she did a backbend. Lola hummed in delight. Frisk bit her lip when she stretched in a way that pulled at the sores and bruises covering her body. Another painful reminder of her mistake.  _ Am I  _ still  _ sore? It's not like I was doing cardio.  _ It wasn't only that, but the cut in her finger was still fresh, even though it had heeled up and she didn't have to wear that bandage anymore. 

When they finished stretching, Frisk put the room back together and Lola went to meet up with her mom who was just downstairs. As Frisk got her bag and left the room, she came face to face with Alice.

"Oh… hey," she murmured. Alice glanced over her shoulder and smiled nervously. 

"You said I could talk to you," she croaked. Frisk furrowed her brow, but thankfully her cautious look was hidden by the neutral resolve of her mask. 

"Sure. I'm on my way home, we can talk on the way. Oh actually, I was going to drop by the Library and return some books," she said. Alice followed timidly behind her and pulled a sweater on. 

"What about the lions?" She asked. Frisk smirked when she remembered that she was one of the only people who tolerated the lions' riddles. 

"Oh they're not an issue at all. I find them enduring," she said. Alice rolled her eyes. Obviously they had their differences, but Frisk didn't want that to get in the way of a possible friendship.

"Of course you do." Frisk chuckled quietly under her breath. 

"By Ms. Valentine!" Called Lola. Frisk spun on her heels and waved goodbye to Charlotte and Lola. Charlotte's eyes widened as she remembered she had something to tell her and Frisk stalled as Charlotte walked over to her. 

"Moxie… I just wanted to remind you that we're closed tomorrow because um, the Purge," she said. Frisk's eyes darkened at the reminder of that dreadful day.  _ Shit, it's tomorrow?  _ She nodded slowly and turned away.

"Ok, thanks Charlotte," she said as they left the hotel. They walked in silence for a long moment as Frisk mulled over the dark information Charlotte had just shared with her. 

The Purge had of course been looming over her, but she had been too caught up in daily life to acknowledge it.  _ Tomorrow? Fuck… how is Sans going to act? I hope when it's over we can talk more. I hope he reaches out to me. Wouldn't it be nice if we… talked?  _ That time on the roof played over in her mind, and was quickly joined by their first early morning conversation about philosophy. A soft, warm smile graced her lips until she remembered Alice was still trailing behind her. 

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" She asked. Alice scrunched her nose as she pondered over if she really wanted to say anything or not. Frisk glanced around as some people shot them curious glances. The neighbourhood good girl and Grillby’s slut.  _ If only they knew.  _

"Well—"

"—Halt— Oh! Moxie! So good to see you again!" Rumbled the first lion as they approached the stairs. Alice sighed in frustration. Frisk smiled and bowed her head. 

"And you too," she said. The second lion jumped up and nuzzled her; Alice watched with exasperated fascination. 

"Would you like to hear a riddle? We've got a good one," said the first one. Frisk pursed her lips in thought and glanced down at Flowey who was hiding in her coat. He smiled at her and winked; she giggled. 

"Of course, hit me." Alice crossed her arms and leaned against the stairs as Frisk and the library lions conversed. 

_ "I create my lair with earthen string, and dispatch my prey with a biting sting." _ Frisk tapped her chin as she mulled over the answer.  _ Hmm, string…sting… lair… is this easy mode? _

"Spider?" She asked. The second lion chortled proudly and they nodded with approval. They let her pass and she jogged up the stairs. As Alice moved to follow her, the lions snarled. 

"Halt! Who dares try to enter the chamber of knowledge? Answer these riddles three! Prove you are worthy of the secrets kept inside these hallowed halls!" Growled the first lion. Alice gasped and stumbled back. Frisk spun on her heel and cleared her throat as she tried to stifle a small laugh. 

"She's with me," she said. The lions eyed Alice warily before shrugging and jumping back onto their stairway perches. Alice timidly stepped past them before sprinting to join her. Frisk and Flowey snickered impishly as they entered the library. 

"I don't get how you're so… adored," grumbled Alice. The librarian, who Frisk had learned was named Shehet, shushed her. Frisk sighed as she returned her books. She didn't really get it either. It was nice though. For once in her life she felt like she was welcomed. For a long time in her life she felt tolerated with a hint of contempt thrown her way. 

Now, no one really knew who she was behind the mask. And the people that did know her behind the mask knew her as the person she was trying to be and not the person she used to be. 

"What did you  _ really  _ want to talk to me about?" She asked. Alice frowned and looked down at her nails as Frisk leafed through the mystery novels. 

"You said we had a lot in common… what did you mean?" She asked. Frisk glanced over at her, eyes narrowed in thought as she debated on if she should tell this woman about herself. She'd like to think she could trust her. She wanted to. Frisk wanted to be friends with as many women as possible. Something about that kind of friendship was good for her soul. Maybe it was because of the absence of her mother, or maybe it was just that she liked the company of simple women who liked to drink wine and brag about their kids. 

"How old are you?" She asked. Alice raised a brow at the question. 

"Twenty…" Frisk nodded. She was only three years older, but for some reason she felt like an authority figure. She wanted to help her. 

"When I was seventeen… I started working as a… um, well," she laughed nervously, "let's just say I was like you. And it was like that for three years before I finally ran off," she murmured. Alice's ears drooped as she listened. 

"Makes sense… you being a tiefling and all. What made you want to leave? I mean… obviously, anyone who's forced to do this wants a way out but… what was the breaking point?" She asked. Frisk pulled out a crime novella and read the back.  _ A classic Detective Noir?  _ The Wolf In Sheep's Clothing. _ Looks interesting.  _

"Well… there was a young girl. She um… almost got killed by our boss in a fit of rage and I stepped in. It was then I realized just how low I had sunk, and after that I made a break for it," she said, dodging around all the grittier details that would've exposed her humanity and her darker secrets. Alice watched her, eyes wide. 

"Now, I have nothing against sex workers, I want you to know that. It's just… a dangerous world and the men don't exactly do anything to help make it safe for us. Why do you…want to know?" Frisk turned to her, the question glittering in her eyes. Alice ran a flustered hand through her hair. 

"The other night… Sans gave me a bunch of money and… he told me you'd want me to… get out of Grillby's. I've been sitting on the cash since, but I just don't know how." Frisk's eyes widened at the revelation. Sans gave her money? Why? 

"Did he, uh…  _ pay  _ for you?" She practically choked on the words. Frisk was a bit shocked and disgusted with herself when she felt the heat of jealousy in the pit of her chest. On one hand, she was disgusted at the idea that Sans had used a prostitute, even when he knew about that part of her past. On the other hand…  _ Don't even go there.  _

"No. We didn't really get very far to be honest. He freaked out on me and stopped me before anything got serious. It was ridiculous," she spat. Frisk smirked softly to herself. So that's what Alice had meant when she had accused her of having her claws in him. Her face flushed when she realized he had turned down Alice because of his infatuation with her.  _ I think I'm in love with you.  _

"Really? How… do you guys often do things together?" She asked timidly. Alice scoffed and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. 

"Well honestly, he stopped doing stuff with me last year, the other night was a… I think he was just trying to distract himself. Whatever," she grumbled. Frisk nodded along. She sighed when her mind started aching with the information. She didn't want to think about it any longer. 

"Where do you live right now?" She asked as she focused her attention back on Alice's current predicament. 

"Oh… I live above Grillby's. It comes with the job and um… since he's my landlord he likes rent to be paid for with… favors," she murmured, an ashamed darkness creeping in her eyes. Frisk felt a stab of remorse in her soul. 

"Oh…Bonnie's… Bonnie's got a place right above her shop and Charlotte has been needing more employees. So far it's only me and her," she said. Alice's eyes widened at the possibility. 

"Do you think I could really leave Grillby's? I mean what if he…Comes for me?" She asked, her voice cracking at the thought that freedom wouldn't be an option for her. Frisk swallowed her resolve and shook her head firmly. 

"I wouldn't let that happen. If need be, I'd sick Papyrus on him," she said with a grin. Alice giggled at the idea, before her face lit up with a genuine smile. 

"You'd really do that for me? Even after I… attacked you?" She asked. Frisk shrugged. 

"Of course I would," she said. Alice's smile grew a bit bigger and she dragged Frisk into a tight hug. Frisk wheezed when she was reminded just how strong monsters were compared to her fragile human body. 

"Oh wow that was… healthy," she gasped when Alice let her go. She giggled and followed Frisk to Shehet's desk. 

"Did you find everything ok?" She asked. Frisk nodded curtly and put her book down. She leaned over as a question snagged in her mind. 

"Hey, by the way, what are the lions' names? I never did find out," she mused. Shehet chuckled and looked up in thought. 

"Well, the first one would be Reggie, which is a play on the Latin word for king, the second is Leon," she said with a witty smirk. Frisk chuckled and nodded. 

"That's very clever," she said. Shehet gave her a playful wink as she handed her the book. With that, Alice and Frisk left the library. The first lion, Reggie, roared his goodbyes and Frisk waved to him. 

"How should I quit?" Asked Alice once they had made it to the edge of the town. Frisk shrugged. 

"I don't have a very good track record for quitting… But, I think you need to secure yourself the room, pack all your stuff out as quickly as you can." Alice nodded along as she made mental notes. 

"Got it… again, I'm really sorry about um… well, you know. I was just so angry—"

"—Hey, you don't have to apologise, it's in the past." Alice's eyes softened and she nodded firmly. 

"I still don't understand you… but thanks for listening to me. Stay safe." Frisk nodded and gave Alice a small side hug. The bunny woman lingered and Frisk swallowed nervously. She still didn't know just how much she could trust Alice, but she wanted to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. Finally, she pulled away and waved to her. Frisk waved back and turned down the road. 

"What is it with you and Monsters?" Asked Flowey teasingly as he rose from her jacket collar. Frisk snickered knowingly as she jogged down the snow covered road. Most of her exercise came from walking to and from work. 

"I'm just being kind. I think it's a breath of fresh air for them." Frisk had a feeling it was because the monsters were so desperate to be happy that they accepted any form of kindness with open arms. Even the smallest sliver of it, like someone offering to listen to their problems. Besides, it felt genuinely good to make other people happy. She found her soul only grew lighter with each new interaction. 

As Frisk walked through the back door and stripped her jacket off, she heard a new voice in the house that made her heart jump into her throat. 

"And then I told him,  _ Harvest is comin' soon… I just forgot my scythe. Should've brought it. Your times almost up, Bob.  _ God, you should've seen the look on his face!" That was Sans. She inched into the hall and looked into the living room. 

"Oh my God, you're such an ass… this is nice. It's good to be here. Sure beats that freezing ass cell." That was the stranger, and the stranger was a large, baby-blue, Lapine monster. She paled and silently thanked whatever god was listening that she hadn't taken off her mask. The rabbit monster peaked over his shoulder and smiled sweetly at her. He had a charming face. 

"Oh! You must be Frisk! It's ok, you don't have to keep up the act around me. Like you, I am also a criminal to the crown," he said with a wink. Frisk laughed nervously. What the hell was going on? Papyrus marched into the room when he saw the scene unfolding. 

"You bloody idiots. Frisk, meet Nick Creamer. He's going to be staying with us temporarily until the Purge passes," grumbled Papyrus. Sans nodded and stood up. He took two empty bowls from the coffee table and made his way to the kitchen. 

Frisk studied the rabbit and it suddenly hit her that this was _the_ _Nick_ who Sans had casually mentioned helped raise Papyrus with him when he was seventeen. Her eyes widened. 

"Oh!  _ Nick! _ You're Nick!" She gasped. Nick chuckled nervously and nodded. 

"The one and only… I'm sorry we had to meet like this. Things aren't… things are pretty bad right now," he said, a darkness falling over his face. Frisk smiled sadly as she took off her mask and shook her hair out. Nick's eyes widened. 

"Oh shit, Sans you didn't say that she was  _ gorgeous!"  _ He gasped, before his face melted into a charming grin. Frisk blushed and rolled her eyes. 

"Believe me, she already knows," said Sans. She shot him a look, which he returned with a playful wink. Papyrus cocked a calculative brow at the gesture and laid his gaze on his older brother. 

Nick chuckled and held his hand out to her. She smiled and took it. She had definitely not been expecting this sudden turn of events. 

"Your secret is safe with me," he said. Her tiefling horns shrunk away as Flowey rose up and studied Nick, who flinched at the sight of the gruesome flower. Frisk had forgotten just how freaky the live flower looked to new people. 

"… How are you a criminal?" He asked. Nick's ears drooped and that same darkness she had seen earlier filled his gaze once again.

"I'm a member of the Angelicans," he said quietly, as if there was someone listening in on them. Frisk tilted her head. She had only heard quiet whispers about the Angel and the prophecy, but what was this Angelican group? Her ignorance once again reminded her just how foreign she really was to the Underground. Papyrus seemed to read the question on her face. 

"A rebel group trying to fight against the king. Normally, I would stomp out the little worms… but Nick is a special case." Nick frowned at the words. Frisk felt a kinship with him and she smiled softly. 

"That makes two of us," she whispered. Nick winked at her and the two giggled together at the shared understanding. Frisk glanced over to see Sans glaring at Nick. When he caught her looking, he quickly looked away as if he wasn't bothered at all by how quickly the two had got on. She smirked knowingly and turned back to Nick. 

"It's a little surprising that they let you out on your own," he said. Frisk grunted and ran a hand through her hair.  _ No kidding.  _

"It has its drawbacks," grumbled Papyrus. Sans snorted with hidden laughter.  _ I've been attacked three times on the way out. Two out of three times have been a successful conversion however so… I think I'm doing fine.  _

"Alright, do you have a room to stay in, Nick?" Asked Frisk. He shook his head. 

"I'm just gonna use the pullout couch, right Sans?" He asked. Sans hummed in response, which was all the approval he needed. Frisk chuckled and shrugged. 

"Well ok then.  _ Bonne nuit, lapin. Je te verrai demain matin,"  _ she said as she gave a pat to his head. He grinned a cute, buck-toothed grin and waved her off as she jogged upstairs. 

Sans crossed his arms and tried to stifle the burning jealousy settling in his soul. He chuckled when Nick pointed upstairs and mouthed  _ "holy shit." Holy shit indeed Nickie. You don't even know how good she is in bed and that's all mine… ugh, shut up.  _ He quickly shut down the thought and cleared his throat. 

Papyrus narrowed his eyes and marched over to him. Sans grunted as Papyrus pulled him down the hall and into the mudroom. Now out of earshot of both Nick and Frisk, he shoved Sans against the wall and let out a snarl. 

"Is there something you're not telling me?" He spat. Sans forgot his initial anger at his brother's attack and instead felt a spike of panic. He chuckled nervously. 

"What? What are ya talkin' about boss?" He asked. Papyrus sneered and slapped his older brother across the face. Sans growled at the move and wiped his cheekbone with his knuckle. 

"Don't treat me like an idiot. I'm not an idiot—"

"—I never said you were—"

"—You think I didn't notice that little look you gave her? You think I don't notice the  _ bite marks  _ on her neck? Thought you could slip that by me, didn't you? You disgusting, horn toad," he spat.  _ His insults get more and more creative, don't they?  _ Sans's bones rattled with anxiety as Papyrus mentioned the bite marks on Frisk's neck.  _ Shit… I knew that would come back to  _ bite _ me.  _ He tried to stifle the small snicker threatening to escape.

"Listen, I'm not exactly proud of it…" he trailed off when he realized he couldn't really talk himself out of this one. He leaned back against the wall in defeat. Sleeping with Frisk continuously proved to be a huge mistake. And now she looked at him with those coy glances. Their kiss in the kitchen still burned in the back of his mind. The way she had told him she'd be there for him. She never failed to say things that riled up his soul. Everyday she grew sweeter and more caring and more  _ irresistible.  _

"You shouldn't be. You're just making this harder on yourself. You know at the end of the day what has to be done… and… honestly I don't want her to be anymore hurt than she'll already be." He said the last part almost inaudibly, but Sans had still heard it. He lowered his eyes in shame. A flicker of anger passed through him. 

"I can't keep ignoring her," he said. Papyrus nodded knowingly. 

"Obviously not. It's suspicious and I don't want her catching on. We can discuss this later, but from now on try to keep your dick in your trousers." Sans sighed. Papyrus usually never cussed or used vulgar language at all.  _ You're such a fuck up,  _ he thought to himself. He growled under his breath. Why did it have to be this way? 

"There has to be another way… I… Papyrus, there  _ has  _ to be," he said, for the first time in a long time he found himself pleading. Papyrus glared down at him. They had both lost so much to this hell. Their family, their entire race, their integrity, their friendships… love. Sacrifices had been made. People had been killed. Why did more monsters have to die? Papyrus knew this was the best way, it was the  _ only  _ way, and Sans knew it too. 

Papyrus didn't have to say anything. He merely glanced into the living room where Nick was getting the pull out bed ready. Sans got the message loud and clear. One human or more monsters? One human or more senseless slaughter? 

Sans knew there would be no talking him out of it. 

"You and I both know we have more important matters to worry about tomorrow. Not only is it the Purge, we're also giving refuge to a member of the Angelicans and it is the most risky thing I've ever done." Sans cocked a brow at the suggestion. 

"Even more risky than keeping a human?" He asked. Papyrus scoffed. 

"Yes, now this house is illegal squared… come on. We have a long day tomorrow," murmured Papyrus. Sans sighed and nodded along as they filed out from the mudroom. Tomorrow was the Purge… and then only days from that, the Equinox masquerade. Sans didn't believe he was ready for either. 

  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Womanly Solidarity!!!! 
> 
> Up Next: The Purge


	34. The First Day Of Spring

Chapter Thirty-Four: The First Day Of Spring 

* * *

Flowey sat in the dark as he wrestled with his lack of sleep. He glanced over at Frisk as she tossed and turned, a taut frown on her face, eyes squeezed shut. She must've been having a nightmare. Flowey glanced down when the shade crept into the door. She could smell the frightening dreams and had come to feast. Shades thrived in tortured households. They weren't malicious, but their presence was never a good sign. They fed off of trauma and fear. Nightmares were their main source of energy. 

Arial was a sweetie though, despite this. Flowey sometimes wondered what would happen to her if the inhabitants of this household overcame their inner demons.

He watched as she climbed up next to Frisk and pressed her nose to her forehead. Sometimes he wondered if Arial fed on his nightmares too. He was dreading the Purge. 

He knew who he'd have to face. Asgore would be there in person. Everyone was required to go. That meant Frisk, or Moxie Valentine… which meant he'd have to go too. He wished that weren't the case. He didn't want to see Asgore. He didn't want to be reminded of his past life. 

Flowey sighed and glanced at the drawings that Frisk had hung up on the wall. Several were of the castle gardens he had grown up in. He'd have to tell her the truth eventually. People were calling her the Angel. People were looking to her like she might be the answer, although no one really knew why. They didn't know that she fit every description in the prophecy. Seen the surface… she was unknowingly uniting common people, and helping them and she didn't even realize it. She didn't realize just how important what she was doing was. She was a human, and she had determination as well. What if she saved everyone? The thought certainly crossed his mind a lot. 

If she was going to save everyone, someone would have to defend the people and to extent, her, against the king. That someone would have to be him. He just had to own up to it. 

He glanced over at Frisk and frowned. He wouldn't tell today though. Maybe not even tomorrow. He was afraid. After all… would Frisk still want to be his friend after she knew that he was the direct heir to the monster sitting on the throne? 

⁂

Frisk woke up early and got dressed as Papyrus stomped about. She rubbed her eyes as she stood groggily in front of her closet. 

She frowned as her thoughts turned to Toriel. She grabbed one of the larger sweaters that had belonged to the old woman. She traced the delicate cable knitting pattern before slipping it over her body. 

A crushing guilt and sadness filled her the more she thought about her. Her death had been her fault. Toriel had tried to fight for her and protect her. _This is what he's done to our kingdom._

Today was the day needless deaths would occur. Dust would fill the Underground. Frisk felt sick to her stomach. 

Flowey climbed onto her shoulders and grew her horns. Frisk slipped on gloves and grabbed her mask. She stared down at it, a small anger pooling in her stomach that she was forced to hide herself in this hell. 

Was there really nothing anyone could do to stop it? _Unlikely, this has been going on for years… What about the Angelicans?_ Her thoughts turned to Nick as she traipsed down the stairs. 

Frisk glanced into the living room to see him sitting on the couch, ears drooped as he nursed a mug of coffee. 

"Morning…" she murmured. He looked up and smiled sadly at her. 

"Morning… it's really happening," he croaked. She came to sit beside him. Despite the fact she had just met him, she found that she liked his presence. He had a nice, gentle aura. She could tell he was a kind hearted person from the bottom of his heart. 

"It doesn't feel real," he whispered, "All of my friends were slain in the Arenas. Not one survived… I guess it's better that at the end of their lives, they held true to our ideals. At least they weren't taken by the Purge but… I could've helped them," he said. Frisk listened quietly, her eyes focused on him as he spoke. 

"It's not your fault," she said. Nick shrugged and took a drink. 

"That's what I keep telling myself. I hope Gerson is ok. I hope he got my message," he said quietly, as if someone would rat them out if they overheard. Frisk assumed this Gerson character was the leader. She glanced at Flowey. He seemed deep in thought. She wondered what he could've been thinking about. 

"I wish I could help. I feel so useless down here. It's like I really can't do anything without being exposed as a human," she murmured. Nick nodded in understanding. 

"Well…you seem like a good person. Just keep trying to help in little ways… all the monsters down here could really use some hope. Gerson thinks the king is planning something big… Who knows, maybe you're down here for a reason…" Frisk frowned at the suggestion. Flowey, Toriel, and Doug all thought so too. 

"Human, put your mask on, we need to be off. Sans will take you into town. I arranged for you to travel with Mr. Ransom. Sans and I would take you ourselves, but I doubt you want to walk with us while we transport the prisoners. We will meet again when we arrive in the fort," he said. Mr. Ransom of course, was Doug. Frisk nodded slowly. She supposed he wouldn't be involved due to his vision. 

She glanced at Nick and smiled sadly before she fastened her mask to her face. She assumed Nick wouldn't be going, and she really wished she could've stayed here with him. However, as Papyrus had told her, all known citizens would have to be there. As far as anyone was concerned, Moxie Valentine was a well known citizen. Moxie Valentine would have to be there. 

Nick was only excused to hide away because he was _supposed_ to be in prison. How the brothers got away with smuggling him out, she'd never know. Maybe they paid off more sympathetic guards and threatened more stubborn ones. She wouldn't put it past them. 

Frisk sighed as she stretched and waited for Sans to join her. He was by her side after a moment, and the two waved goodbye to Nick before they were surrounded with red mist. Teleportation was always painful, but she had started to grow a tolerance for it. 

She found herself in a Snowden alleyway, Sans's hand clasping hers tightly. She glanced down at their hands and bit her lip. 

Sans clenched his jaw as her fingers tightened around his hand. He glanced at her as she let him go and started forth. 

"I guess I'll see you there?" She asked. Sans nodded slowly as he watched her walk away. He grunted and followed behind her to make sure she stayed safe until she met up with Doug. At least, that’s what he told himself. He actually just wanted to be around her for just a little longer before he had to go to the prison. God he’d give anything to stay with her and not deal with the shit proceedings and ceremonies that were needlessly inflicted on people. 

They walked in silence. He wished he could’ve said something. Maybe tell her just how much he had actually appreciated her gesture of care for him. Maybe to warn her of Papyrus’s plan. Maybe whisk her away somewhere they could be together. All wishful thinking. 

He had to stop. He was going goofy. She was making him _giggle. Who the fuck giggles? This is just meaningless infatuation. She’s a beautiful woman who just so happens to be the sweetest… possibly sexiest person you’ve ever met. Of course you think you love her. Just stay focused. Don’t let Papyrus be the smartest person in the family you idiot. It’ll pass, you’ll see. Pretty soon you’ll forget you even knew her._

“Hey, are you ok?” Sans looked down at Frisk as she dragged him back to reality. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. 

“Just lost in thought ‘sall,” he murmured. She hesitated, before shrugging. She never pushed answers out of anyone, perfectly content to wait. Part of him believed it was one of her many charms and tools of manipulation. She was perfectly content to wait and just smile that perfect smile until he finally broke and spilled his guts out. God, she really made him want to tell her everything. 

“ ‘Ello love, and uhm… Sans,” greeted Doug, his tail wagging at the sight of Frisk. Sans watched as Frisk seemed to physically brighten and the two _hugged,_ much to his dismay. He almost caught himself growling. _Holy shit, calm down. You had sex with her one time, you don’t own her. Come on, get out of here._

“Alright, I’m gonna go. Keep her safe,” he said. A flicker of darkness passed over his eyes as he seemed to say _if-anything-happens-to-her-I-will-personally-destroy-you._ Doug’s smile dropped at the look, but he didn’t have enough time to register it as red smoke surrounded the skeleton and like that, he was gone. 

Frisk turned to Doug and giggled. That narcissistic side of her was practically glowing at the attention. She found that a dark part of her relished in Sans’s jealousy, it was definitely a good way of getting back at him for all the emotional shit he put her through. _Probably not the healthiest thing, but no one’s perfect._

Sometimes she really hated the pedestal that Flowey and Doug, even Charlotte, Bonnie and Alice put her on. No one expected anything good of her for a good portion of her life, and the sudden shift in perspective, while offering her a fresh start, could sometimes be exhausting. She was worried that one slip up could mean harsh judgement from those around her. Perhaps she could add that to the many reasons she found Sans’s presence so freeing, why she could open up to him so easily… Maybe even why she craved him so much. 

They joined a large crowd as they all trailed through the streets. Doug was handed a candle by Bonnie as the La’Pine family joined them. Frisk gently took the candle Doug held out for her. 

“What’s this for?” She asked Flowey as Doug lit her candle with his cigar lighter. Flowey frowned and let out a shaky breath. 

“They hold onto it all the way until the end of the purge… and then they throw it on top of the pile of bodies and burn them.” Frisk’s eyes widened at the morbid information. She looked down at the candle and swallowed her disgust. She couldn’t do that… she _wouldn’t_ do that. 

“Why? What kind of sick ceremony…” she trailed off. Flowey nodded solemnly. 

“Yeah, this definitely isn’t Yuletide. It’s supposed to turn the dust to ashes and spread them throughout the Underground. It’s said to fertilize the crops and clean the river. No one actually believes that… I hope… but it does make people feel better about what they have to do,” explained Flowey. Frisk nodded along. She guessed that made sense. The whole point of the Purge, besides being a show of power, was to control the population and free up resources. At least that’s what the media said. Frisk still didn’t think that excused it. Especially when most of the prisons were filled with people who had committed treason against the crown and were not actual murderers. 

After what felt like hours of walking in the crowd of over a hundred Snowden residents, Frisk noticed the scenery start to change. They were surrounded by a large black lake that flowed from the North end of Snowden and then into the cavern. 

It was the River Styx. Over it was a bridge of ships tied together like some rickety art piece, or a blockade that had been violently slammed into defeat. It entered a gaping cave.

Now she wished she had gone with the brothers. Were they going to traipse across Waterfall? Surely not. _Apparently so,_ she thought as the line of people made their way across the bridge and into the mouth of the cave. 

As she crossed the swaying bridge of boats and stepped into the cavernous entrance, she was hit by darkness. She secretly thanked the many candles lighting the way. 

A long, quiet moment filled with walking and soft murmurs were the only thing to accompany her as she looked around in wonder. Waterfall was a beautiful place. The fields were cut through with clear water, and hundreds and thousands of bioluminescent flowers, mushrooms and other assortments of flora scattering the ground. She noticed other monsters starting to join them when they passed through small villages. 

Sometimes, the roof of the cavern was low, like a comforter slowly descending down on someone hiding under their sheets. Other times it was so high, it was obscured in mist and clouds. What was constant was the bright, blue wishing stones glittering on the cavern ceiling. 

Apparently, Waterfall was always cloaked in darkness. They passed a few farms, which were lit with large lamps that broke up the darkness and invaded her eyes. She squinted and glanced up at Doug. He was panting and fanning his face, and it was then that it hit her just how humid it was in here. 

“How long will this take?” She asked. Doug grunted to himself and glanced down at Frisk as he mulled over the answer. 

“We’re almost there. It’s just past Ghost Town,” he said. Ghost Town? Frisk was filled with questions. She had never been in Waterfall. It was definitely the most gorgeous place in the Underground, that was for sure. 

“Any otha' day, we’d get a ferry, but we’ve been doin’ it like this since the Purge started, so it’s kind of set in stone,” he explained. Frisk nodded in understanding. People really liked their traditions. She couldn’t blame them. Traditions made people feel normal, even in the most horrid of situations. They were all just trying to survive. If lighting candles and taking a nice, long stroll through Waterfall made people feel content then so be it. 

When they arrived in Ghost Town, Frisk’s eyes widened at the beauty. It was the most colorful city she had ever seen. Every building was painted a bright color, and the flora glowed. Lots of new monsters were joining them. She noticed a _lot_ of the monsters were transparent, ethereal and… ghostly. They were ghosts. Or at least ghouls of some kind. They weren’t exactly human ghosts. They looked exactly like sheets draped over someone as a last minute Halloween costume. Except these “sheets” had the look of white mist, and she could see their white souls in the center. There was something eerily beautiful about it. A quiet wail filled the town as the ghosts moaned their sorrows. 

Frisk’s eyes were drawn to a hole in the wall shop that was labeled “Mama Loa’s Vodou Emporium.” Any other day, she would’ve been extremely interested. This place was a lot like New Orleans. The buildings had that old French corridor look, and the swamp trees and voodoo shops only added to that effect. She smiled. It was amazing… if only she was here in different circumstances. It didn’t feel fair. 

The ghost’s wailing grew almost unbearable. Much like the hellhound, she could feel a pull on her soul. She wanted to cry and wail with them. Doug noticed her distress and he put a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her hand to meet his and gave him an affectionate squeeze. She wanted to go home. The day however, had only begun. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


The Fort was a desolate, old castle in the middle of a giant field. As the line of monsters filed through the tall grass, Frisk began to notice just how many monsters were there. Tens of thousands were all gathering together in one large field. How were they all going to fit in the castle? 

Doug took her hand and led her through the abandoned fortress. The executions would be carried out in the courtyard, but vendors would start opening shops and taking advantage of the sorrowful civilians in the grand hall and any other corridor they could get their greedy hands on. 

"Hungry?" Asked Doug as they made their way through the cold, dark halls. Frisk shivered and hovered her hand over the candlestick for warmth. 

"Sure." She was famished. All that walking had done a number on her. Her legs felt like jelly. She could really sit down. 

"Oh hello… fancy seeing you again." Frisk looked up and gasped as she came face to face with the six, glittering, black eyes of Ms. Muffet. Her breath almost seemed to be sucked out of her lungs. Forgotten was the idea of resting her feet. 

"Hey…" she breathed. Doug lowered his ears and whined doggishly in the presence of the aristocrat, but Muffet paid no mind to him. 

"Out of the thousands of monsters here and I just so happen to run into you. How perfect!" Her voice was enchanting, and the small fangs that glinted against her stark, red lips were dangerously beautiful. Truly, everything about the woman was dangerously beautiful, and Frisk couldn't look away. 

"Oh yes, it's a happy coincidence," she chirped when she finally found her voice again. She couldn't deny that thoughts of Muffet resurfaced in her mind when things got bleak. Muffet smiled a bright smile. 

"I haven't heard from you, I was worried, you know," she said. Doug and Frisk fell into a walk beside the woman as she led them through the castle. She glanced at Doug as he stared ahead. He looked _afraid._ Why? 

"Oh?" Asked Frisk. Muffet nodded and pulled at the end of her sleeve in an effort to make it even. She was a very meticulous person. Her hair was perfect. She definitely looked like she hadn't walked here at all, unlike everyone else. 

"How are those… reapers of yours?" She asked with a hint of distaste for the skeletons laced in her tone. Frisk shrugged and tried to fight back the creeping blush growing on her face. 

"They're… good," she murmured. Muffet quirked a perfect brow and glanced back at her. 

"How interesting…" her big, black eyes fell on her and seemed to linger as she studied the girl before her. Frisk gulped at the look. 

"Be careful out there, Moxie…" she said. Frisk glanced up as red smoke filled the corridor and Sans stepped through. The two, spider and skeleton, glared across at each other before Muffet brushed off his shoulder and shoved past him. Sans watched her, eyes black as night. Frisk's breath hitched at the tension and she glanced away. 

"Oi, you're here! Where are all the prisoners?" Asked Doug as he finally felt the room to breathe again. Sans growled at the question and waved carelessly in a general direction. 

"They're bein' dealt with in the courtyard," he explained. His eyes fell on Frisk and his eyelights flickered back on, his grin seemed to soften. 

"Frisk and I were about to get lunch, right, love?" Asked Doug. Frisk nodded, her eyes trained on Sans's. Sans shrugged and gestured for them to follow. 

"Well I'm sure you can squeeze in one more person." Frisk nodded and fell into step beside him. 

"So uh, why was Muffet talkin' to you?" Asked Sans. Doug's ears perked up and he glanced expectantly at Frisk. She could tell he was also asking the same question, albeit not as vocally. Frisk shrugged. She didn't think it would be a good idea to tell Sans that Muffet had told her to call and ask for help if she ever needed an escape from the brothers. She had half the mind to tell him that it was none of his business, but she held her tongue. 

"Ya know, Frisk… they don't call her the black widow for no'fin'," murmured Doug. Why did he feel the need to warn her? A creeping uneasiness filled her soul, and it was only intensified when she noticed the strange, curious look that Sans was giving her. 

"Well nobody's perfect," she grunted. _It's not like you haven't done shitty things Sans… or even you Doug. Last I checked, you both almost killed me. You have a reputation… we all have reputations_. Sans glanced away, his grin turning into more of a skull's grimace. For a second, she feared he had heard the accusing thought. She didn't know why she wanted the approval of her fellow women so badly, but she did. Besides, Muffet was a powerful woman who wasn't afraid of anyone. Frisk admired her. 

"She's right," grunted Sans, and with that the subject was dropped. Frisk eyed Sans. Had he actually agreed with her or was he just trying to shut down the conversation? _Men,_ she thought with a playful roll of her eyes. 

The trio got a small lunch from a vendor. Nothing too fancy. The event would start in a few minutes as people found places to sit and other latecomers trickled in like some sort of cruel concert. Frisk hoped it never started at all; they could wander away back to their houses and breathe a sigh of relief.

Frisk glanced at Sans. He didn't look too good. He was glaring ahead. He was tense. She didn't blame him at all. She could only imagine what she was about to witness. She caught him glance at the candle she was holding and he grunted. She looked down at it and across at Doug's. She agreed with that small sentiment. It _was_ rather disgusting. 

"Ooh, can I have one of those?" Asked Flowey as he leaned over her shoulder. Frisk smiled and gave Flowey one of the deep fried dumplings. She tried to ignore him smacking in her ear. Yep, he was definitely like a little brother. 

"Clean yourselves up. It's startin'," grumbled Sans as he pushed himself back on his feet. Frisk sighed and stood up, followed shortly by Doug. She gazed after him, her heart filling with concern. 

Sans shot Frisk a puzzled look as she put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. 

"What?" He asked softly. She looked away. How could she possibly be sympathetic in a way that wouldn't make him upset? He was a prideful person… maybe he would snap on her. Not after what they'd done… surely. Or maybe she was giving him too much credit and needed to remember who he was at the end of the day. 

"I know you hate this… I wished I knew what to say to make this better, but that's impossible," she whispered as they joined the crowd. One glance in their direction and people made space for them. _One of the many perks to being friends with Sans the Skeleton I guess,_ she thought. Sans glanced at her and sighed. 

"Don't say anything then," he said gently. There wasn't any malice in his voice… he just sounded exhausted. Frisk frowned and glanced down at his hand. She wanted to comfort him. Part of her wanted to shield herself from the atrocities and hold him tight the way they had during that night. She wanted him to be ok. The Purge had haunted him for so long, she knew it did.

Now they would be forced to partake in another one. He had been forced to drag prisoners down from their cells and into this courtyard. She had said a long time ago that by being in the military he perpetuated it. She still didn't really know just what motivated Sans or Papyrus… but she wanted to believe they had good intentions. She wanted to believe it desperately… and maybe that was selfish. Maybe it was all for her own benefit. She'd rather be selfish and want the best for people than be selfish and not give a shit at all. She _did_ give a shit, damnit. 

The crowd hushed as the council members walked onto the stage. Their glowing red eyes seemed to pierce through every monster standing in the castle. The weight of the event crashed onto her. She felt like she had been in a stage of denial all the way up until now and suddenly it was real. 

Frisk looked around and she saw a balcony overlooking the courtyard. There were several people sitting inside. One towered above the others. He was the monster from the books she had read. He was the monster others whispered fearfully about. He was tall, dark, and looked like Toriel, only bigger and older. His face was framed with a black beard and two ebony horns spiraled out from his head. He was the king. And he was looking right at her. 

She quickly looked away and gulped. Had he really been looking at her, or was she just seeing things? The monsters around her were chanting the pledge of the Underground. She murmured the last few words to not draw attention to herself. 

Papyrus and two other royal guardsmen marched onto the stage. Frisk studied the other two. A large dragon like monster…And a demoness. Her red hair billowed in the wind, her one, yellow eye glaring at the people below her. She was decorated in many medals and she had an air of authority about her that neither the Dragonborne nor Papyrus had. 

"Loyal citizens to the Underground, you have all served tirelessly for the glory of our king and kingdom. We all know the sacrifices that must be made so we can prosper. The dust spilled today will only serve to further honor our glorious king and make rich the spoils of the coming year. It is time to reap the field and burn the thorns choking our good crop. Bring forth the Dishonored." The demoness's voice was strong, and it boomed and echoed throughout the fortress. She certainly had a way with words. She sounded like she believed everything she was saying with all her soul. Prisoners were one by one marched onto the platform until seven were down on their knees. There were many more. 

The demoness, Papyrus and the Dragonborne all stepped back and stood still as the council members drew forward. Frisk watched, dread pooling in her stomach as they unsheathed swords from their cloaks and in seven, fell swoops, the heads of the prisoners were toppled off. 

Frisk covered her eyes and looked away. Flowey hid in her coat. She could feel bile in her throat as she heard the thud of bodies fall to the ground. She couldn't count on her fingers how many more times this happened. She glanced up at Sans to see his eyes trained on the stage, eyelights snuffed out. 

Doug put a comforting hand on her shoulder and whimpered. It was a gruesome sight. Dust and white smoke was filling the air. She felt sick. Her chest constricting, her stomach roiling. She wanted to throw up. 

Eventually, the prisoners were nothing but piles of dusty corpses. The pile itself had grown rather large in both height and width. And that wasn't even the end. Frisk, much to her dismay, remembered they still had to cut down all of the sick and elderly as well. 

She leaned against Doug and shook her head. 

"I can't watch this," she croaked. Doug lowered his ears and rubbed her arm, his claws barely grazing her skin. She found a small sliver of comfort in the act. 

"Their dust will serve us better in death than they did in life… now bring forth the Weak," ordered the demoness, who by now, Frisk assumed was the General. What had Papyrus said her name was? _The Weak?_

Sans stiffened, and Frisk noticed the smoke beginning to pour out of his eyes. New monsters were marched out, some even dragged, onto the platform by what looked to be nurses and doctors. A hush fell over the crowd. She glanced around to see some monsters look away. The ghosts began to wail their sorrows as the sick, hospital ridden monsters were slewn. 

Frisk listened as a mother shushed her crying child. 

"Daddy!" Cried a little girl. Frisk tried to stifle the tears beginning to well in her eyes as the mother hushed her daughter to avoid making a scene. She couldn't just stand there and let this happen! _What are you going to do? March up on that stage and demand they stop? You'd only join them. Then the king could take your soul and reign terror on his people. Is that what you want?_ It wasn't. In that moment, she began to see the motivation behind Sans and Papyrus's placid involvement. What else could they do? 

Frisk glanced back up at the king, a steely hatred growing in her soul. He looked _bored._ She couldn't breath. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her mask was growing rather uncomfortable. She remembered Nick and what he had said. 

_"...all the monsters down here could really use some hope. Gerson thinks the king is planning something big… Who knows, maybe you're down here for a reason."_

For the longest time, she had wanted no part in the politics of the Underground. She had tried to convince herself that she could live down here with no consequence. That she could feel _normal._ That it had nothing to do with her, that she was just trying to survive… 

What if she was down here for a reason? After all, who possibly fell down here and survived? _She had._ Because she had what many humans, and what every monster _didn't_ have. She had Determination. 

_"I think you'll do wonderful things for the Underground…"_

Toriel's voice whispered in her mind. Toriel had believed that she was a force of good that could somehow help this hell. She had believed that Frisk could save people. She had told her to do the right thing. 

"Bring up the Distinguished!" 

She knew what she'd have to do. She'd have to join the Angelicans. With Determination on their side, maybe they'd have a fighting chance. _What about Sans?_

The question was jarring. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts and glanced over at the skeleton who had come to mean way too much to her. A small, wishful part of her hoped that he might join her…But that was ridiculous. He would never do that. Really… how would she even join the Angelicans? _I'll figure that out._

Sans… he wasn't looking good at all. Red smoke was pouring out of his eyes as the piles of bodies grew higher. She shrugged Doug's hand off, and handed him her candle as she hesitantly walked towards Sans. She wanted to help these people… she'd start with him. 

Frisk timidly wrapped her arms around him from behind and his eyes widened. Something flickered in both of their souls and he seemed to melt in her arms, the tendrils of smoke growing thinner. They stayed like that for a long time, and eventually it was over. 

The general gave another speech that fell on deaf ears as the monsters quietly mourned the losses of family members and friends. 

Sans unhooked Frisk's hands and turned to her. He had a distant look and he studied her with narrowed eyes. Frisk looked away. She hoped he wasn't mad at her. She knew some people didn't like physical affection, but… the urge to hold him had been overpowering. She didn't know why she felt so connected to him. Connected in a lot more ways than one, she began to realize. 

She almost sighed in relief when he pulled her into another hug and rested his chin on her head. Her body racked as the tears that had been threatening to spill finally poured down her face. Sans ran a gentle hand through her hair as he stared off into the distance. 

Some monsters shot them curious glances. Never had they ever seen the infamous Skeleton show affection. Some demons eyed Frisk with suspicious looks, which Sans caught. 

He pulled away from her, a darkness passing over his face. He really didn't care what people thought of him. He was one of the most powerful monsters in the Underground, the chances of someone attacking him were slim next to never… but what if someone tried to get at him through her? 

Frisk didn't need to be told. She remembered when Papyrus had told her that small little fact before they had been interviewed by Mettaton, but she didn't care. She wasn't exactly worried about her own safety. She'd been attacked before, and usually it ended in her favor. She just wished they could've stayed like that for longer. 

"Here ya go," murmured Doug as he handed her the candle. Frisk nodded and took hers in hand. Doug eyed her and Sans. He knew about their little nighttime endeavor, but he hadn't expected Sans to actually pull through and treat her right afterwards. It looked just now like the asshole was really in love with her. He wagged his tail, a small spark of happiness for his friend in his soul. Everyone needed a small light in the miserable darkness. 

Frisk watched as the monsters' corpses caught fire. Smoke billowed in the sky as the piles of bodies quickly turned into bonfires. Frisk looked down at her candle and a surge of disgust filled her. She looked up to where the king was sitting. 

Unlike many of the others, she stared directly at him. She wanted him to see her. She wanted to protest. She needed to do something, no matter how stupid it might've been in hindsight. 

His amber eyes met hers in the crowd and her heart spiked. The determination in her soul egged her on as she stared up at the king, candle in hand. _Bastard. I'm going to put a stop to this. I don't know how, or when…But you can't do this forever, not if I have a say._

The king watched as she held up the candle to him as if in toast… and then she blew it out. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Frisk is getting bolder. Might say she has Moxie. ;) 
> 
> Up Next: Our two leads have a heart to heart in the wee small hours of the morning.


	35. The Quiet Hours

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Quiet Hours 

* * *

Frisk lay awake in bed. She hadn't slept a wink, and how could she? The wails of the ghosts haunted her. She felt like each and every soul of the slain monsters were reaching out to her, crying for her help. 

She had wanted to talk to Nick again, but he had disappeared. Now she was left alone with her warring thoughts. She wanted desperately to help the Underground, but she didn't know where to start. She supposed she could just do what Nick told her to do, but it didn't feel like it was enough. That only helped the few people she knew in Snowden. What about Hotland? Waterfall? What about the Capitol? What about the Core? 

Her thoughts snagged on a small memory of two women. Kathy and Brittany. How could she possibly get in touch with them? She didn't know if she could, but she had felt some sort of connection with them. She had seen the desperate look in their eyes that she'd had once. 

The whole idea was daunting but she knew it was what she had to do. The only question was how? 

Frisk sighed and sat up. She wasn't going to get any sleep. She glanced across at the Beatles record sitting on her desk. She had listened to every song at least five times. She wondered where Sans had gotten it from. Maybe there were other human things. She'd give anything to get her hands on an old movie. Maybe a classic Quentin Tarantino.

She smiled to herself. Sans would love Pulp Fiction.  _ Oh! I wish I had Ferris Buehler's day off! That would be so sweet.  _ Sometimes she missed the surface. Bowling alleys, movies, music, the sun…  _ the stars.  _ Sometimes she missed Tiana. However, she knew that there wasn't a life on the surface for her. Not really. 

She hummed quietly as she crept downstairs to check the stove clock and get herself some water. Thankfully, she didn't have work today and she'd just be able to relax. She definitely needed some time to herself. Especially after the events of yesterday. She needed to think. Read.  _ Plan.  _

Arial purred and rubbed against her legs. Frisk smiled softly to herself and kneeled down to scratch the shade between her ears. She pushed herself up from her knees and stretched. 

She turned on the record player and put the needle down. It blared and she choked at the loud volume. She hastily turned it down to barely above a whisper and let out a sigh.

_ "Nous ne voulons pas réveiller tout le quartier."  _ Frisk giggled quietly to herself and rolled her neck slowly from side to side as she let the music weave through her ears. Her ears were filled with the quiet plucking of sitar strings and she drummed along to the beat. Her hips swayed to the rhythm of George Harrison's voice. 

Frisk let out a breath as she sunk to the floor and stretched her legs; flexing and pointing her toes along to the music. She pulled her calf down until her knee was touching her forehead. Frisk clenched her jaw at the taut burning in her thigh and she let out a breath. 

Once both of her legs were stretched, she arched her back and rolled back onto her feet. A small smile graced her lips as she kicked her leg out in a fan kick. She loved these quiet little moments, when the world seemed to hold its breath just for her. 

The song ended and the next began to play. She sighed and made her way through the darkness until she stumbled into the kitchen. She flipped on the light and squinted as the brightness seared her eyes. Frisk poured herself a glass of water and seemed to down it in the same time it took to fill. She was  _ thirsty.  _

"Nice show—" Frisk spat out the water in shock as Sans broke the silence. He chuckled quietly, he was sitting in the informal dining room. 

"What are you doing awake?" That had been a stupid question. She knew Sans rarely ever slept at night. A part of her was secretly pleased he was awake with her. 

"I could ask the same about you," he grunted. She scrunched her nose and grabbed a towel to clean up the water she had spilled. 

"Couldn't sleep," she said. He nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 

"Let me guess, bad dream?" He asked. She shook her head. No, now it was just simple deprivation. He understood. 

"You know, I used to have these mornings to myself," he murmured. She sat down across from him and sipped at her water, almost as if rubbing in her presence. He stared across at her, studying her. 

"You're a good dancer." Frisk smiled softly at his quiet praise. 

"I wasn't even really dancing," she whispered. Sans leaned against his knuckles. 

"Well you certainly had me fooled…" he winked at her and she giggled. Sans drummed his fingers against the table.

"I was never much of a dancer, but… I  _ was  _ in a band," he said. She quirked a brow and hummed at the intriguing fact. 

"Is that so?" She asked. Sans chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Sure. I played the bass and drums. I also dabbled in trombone. It was really popular with the ladies," he said with a mysterious grin. Frisk giggled and shook her head slowly as she gazed at him. There was so much she didn't know about him. She scooted in and reached for his hand. He drew away and rubbed his leg. The small rejection stung her only a little bit. She still didn't understand why he was trying to distance himself from her. 

"You never fail to say something  _ interesting,"  _ she said teasingly. Sans snickered tiredly. He recalled he had said something exactly like that long ago. 

"Hey uh… I think I want to take you up on that offer. After yesterday… I uh…" He murmured, his voice growing quieter as he debated on whether or not he wanted to go through with this. Her eyes widened and she nodded along. 

"Yes..?" she whispered. Sans's eyes dimmed and he looked away. 

"Ah, I don't know, I don't think it's a good idea—"

"—No, please…" he glanced back up at her and clenched his jaw as he tried to swallow his pride. Those big, brown eyes…They made him feel  _ wanted.  _ How did she do that? 

"Ok…I'm sure you've figured out by now that my mom… my mom was executed in the Purge. She… she got sick… things had never really been perfect, but at least she had been there and then… she was gone. My dad kind of…" he trailed off as he forced himself to tell this story. He had held onto it for so long. He had held it inside of his soul and it had finally broken out. He needed to talk to her. He wanted her to understand. Maybe he was telling her this to finally get it off his chest. Maybe he was telling her so that when they inevitably betrayed her, she'd understand why.  _ Wishful thinking you asshole.  _

He glanced back up at her. She watched him intently, and his soul was wrenched at the beautiful sight. 

"Well…" 

  
  
  


⁂

  
  


_ "Come here, son…" murmured his father as he stood, hunched over his machine. Sans, who had taken on the role of unofficial lab partner, stepped forth and swayed awkwardly on his feet.  _

_ "I think I found a way to clip past the barrier. If we make a breakthrough we could end this all," he practically whispered. Sans narrowed his eyes and looked down at the data. It was a simple theory. A soul could clip through the void and end on the other side, as long as they had some sort of guide… but the void was unpredictable and dangerous. One wrong move and you could be ripped to shreds, atom by atom. Who was he planning on sending over? W.D seemed to read the question on his son's face.  _

_ "You. You'll need to go through," he said firmly. Sans's eyes widened. He wasn't a stupid kid, never had been, he knew the dangers that accompanied the mission his father was asking him to do.  _

_ "What?" Dr. Gaster nodded curtly.  _

_ "If not you, then Papyrus. You're the only two I trust anymore, and I need you to do this—" _

_ "—No way, I'll get ripped to shreds! And you're not dragging Papyrus into this, he's ten years old," He protested. Dr. Gaster should've been well aware of the consequences, so why was Sans the one reminding him? W.D narrowed his eyes.  _

_ "I have everything under control, now do what I say, or else," he spat. Sans looked back down at the stats. He had a fifty percent chance of success. He didn't like those odds but… he was sure his father knew what he was doing.  _

_ He glanced at his father, trying desperately to somehow change his mind through a single look. However, Dr. Gaster's abyssal glare was terrifyingly persuasive and Sans was in no way going to keep arguing.  _

_ "Yes sir," he murmured. His fists clenched to hide how much he was shaking. He stepped underneath his father's machine and grit his fangs as the engines whirred to life. Dr. Gaster had spent four years building this contraption, configuring the data… and now he was testing it with his own dust and marrow. He knew his sons were the only ones who could do it, he would…but he had to man the controls. He had to make sure it  _ worked.  _ It would work.  _

_ Sans screamed as the time and space around him began to rip. This was nothing like his normal teleportation. This was tearing him apart atom by atom as a rip in reality was made. His eye flared in an effort to protect himself as black began to fill his vision. Smoke filled the room around him and he was greeted by the face of his dragon skull familiar. It snarled at his invasion of its territory. Here was another reason this was near impossible.  _

_ He stumbled through darkness, the roars of void drakes filling his ears. The only living things to survive in the nonexistence of the Void were the reaper counterparts; ginormous dragons of death that fed on souls. _

_ Sans's body warped in and out of physical state. His body rattled as if the vibration of his atoms was so great it was affecting him physically. He was in pain. A  _ lot  _ of pain. The screech of his familiar indicated he wasn't the only one suffering. A reaper and their familiar could not coexist in the same plane of existence, yet here he was…breaking all the laws of reality. _

_ It was then he saw a light. Sun..? It was blindingly bright. He was surrounded with darkness, and yet he could see light. A fresh breeze brushed against his face and he gasped. Had his father's experiment actually worked?  _

_ As he reached forward, he screamed with pain, his body almost glitching. Sans choked as his body was flooded with the sensation of being ripped apart piece by piece.  _

_ "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" He tried to scream. His voice sounded far away. His familiar found him once more, it's body spasming in agony. It's eye flared, as did his. The dragon's mouth was pouring with smoke, which wrapped around him in a suffocating cloud. He looked up, his body about to implode from the force the void put on him. A searing light shot through the mist and he screamed.  _

_ The machine erupted as Sans shot it down with a beam of energy. His familiar practically dragged him out of the void and back into his own reality. W.D was blasted back with the force, as was Sans.  _

_ Sans gasped for air, his body still blurring violently as it tried to re-stabilize. He cried out in horror. Why had his father put him through that? What was he hoping to gain? Was the bastard trying to get rid of anything that reminded him of mom?  _

_ When the dust settled, Dr. Gaster shot up, his eyes wide from the destruction of his project. The top right half of his face was cracked down to his eye. He didn't care as much about  _ that  _ however.  _

_ "You… You idiot! You broke it! Do you have any idea what you've done!?" Snarled Dr. Gaster as he frantically tried to fix it. Sans shook himself out from his stupor as his father screamed at him.  _

_ "What!?  _ That's  _ what you're worried about!?" Had he been younger, he would've been terrified, but the fifteen year old had grown quite bold with age. All to his detriment.  _

_ "I was so close!" He spat. Sans staggered up to his feet, trying his best to catch his breath. He looked down at his hands as they seemed to phase in and out of his vision.  _

_ "I almost died. I could  _ feel  _ myself tearing apart…" he breathed as his body slowly regained control. Dr. Gaster bared his fangs and turned on his son.  _

_ "It took me four years to build that. You couldn't even make it four minutes! If you had just held out one more minute, this could've been a success!" Sans shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.  _

_ "And then you fucking  _ broke it!"  _ Sans stumbled away in alarm as his father advanced on him. His fist swung across his son's jaw, and one of Sans's canids shot out onto the floor. Dust spilled out from Sans's mouth and he groaned. Dr. Gaster's breaths came in large gulps for air as he realized what he had done.  _

_ "Get the fuck away from me—" _

_ "—Son—" _

_ Sans surrounded himself in red smoke and escaped the glare of his father… and the horror of that lab.  _

  
  
  


⁂

  
  


"I was so worried he would use it on Papyrus, so I uh, heh, I packed up all of our shit and picked him up from school. Started living with Nick. It wasn't foolproof. My dad would come into our lives sometimes. I'm pretty sure he went insane. Staring at the void does that to people…" Frisk listened quietly as he told her his story. 

"Eventually… I had to take care of him because he became such a dysfunctional drunk that he could barely walk and I felt obligated because he was my  _ dad.  _ One day I refused to show up, Papyrus needed me more and… I guess the old fuck decided to screw me over that day and he committed suicide in his own faulty machine." His voice grew quieter. Frisk frowned as the dots began to connect. Flowey had said that the last Royal Scientist had committed suicide. Was Sans's father the old Royal Scientist? She assumed so. That's what made the most sense. Her heart went out to him. 

"So you think it's your fault?" She asked quietly when she felt she had the room to speak. Sans sighed and shrugged. 

"Sometimes, but… for the most part all I can think is,  _ fuck that guy.  _ The worst part is… I'm so worried about becoming like him," he whispered. Frisk's eyes widened. She began to understand why he had freaked out over being called his father's name. It was just another reminder of the person he was terrified of becoming. 

"He never really left either. I have dreams about him constantly. He's just standing in my room, like some kind of ghost bound to haunt me for the rest of my life," he growled. Frisk nodded slowly. He had opened up to her. She felt a warmth in her heart and she reached for him. This time, he didn't recoil. She wrapped her arms around him and he slowly returned the embrace.  _ Who would've ever seen this happening between us?  _

"I made a promise to my brother, Frisk," whispered Sans against her neck. She hummed in response, only really half-listening as she melted in his arms. Being held by him made her feel complete. 

"I told him I'd do anything for him, no questions asked… that I'd do anything to make sure we were never weak again." She nodded along as she studied the words. 

_ "You really care about your brother, don't you?"  _

_ "He's all I have left."  _

"You told me you never break a promise," she whispered. She wanted to kiss him. Would he push her away again? 

"Sometimes promises contradict each other and it's hard to keep one without breaking the other," he murmured as he traced patterns along her skin. She lifted herself off his chest and gazed curiously down at him. What was that supposed to mean? 

"I guess then it comes down to the person you made it to and who you care about more," she murmured. Sans glanced away, his grin melding into a guilt ridden grimace. She tilted her head as she studied him. What was he thinking about? 

His eyes rolled over her and he pulled her back into their comfortable embrace, her head against his chest, leg wrapped around his lap. It was just as things were supposed to be. He needed this. She wanted it. He tried to fool himself into thinking she would understand. For now, the selfish part of him wanted to be close to her and forget about his brother. His brother rarely ever spared a thought for  _ his  _ happiness. He was due an ounce of selfishness after everything he'd done for the little bastard. 

Frisk smiled softly as he ran his fingers through her hair. Three months ago, his fingers tangled in her hair was revolting and terrifying. Now… she might as well have been Arial, purring in satisfaction. She never wanted this to end. She loved quiet moments like this. When the world held its breath… just for them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Nothing like sharing trauma to help two people bond. If only things were different... 
> 
> Up Next: Alice reveals some startling news and Frisk and Doug have Sword Fighting Lessons. 
> 
> If you are enjoying this story, please leave a kudos and/or a comment to show your love! I also adore fanart if that's something you want to do! <3


	36. Unwanted Advice

Chapter Thirty-Six: Unwanted Advice 

* * *

Frisk strolled through the library. Her days off were often spent in those hallowed halls. She had returned the mystery novel and was now piling her arms high with more history books. She needed some inspiration on how to help the people, and if she wanted to help them, she needed to learn more about who the monsters considered Heros. 

Frisk knew she wouldn't be able to find the Angelicans on her own. She'd have to make them come to her. She had a few ideas on how she could do it too. She remembered the helplessness she had felt whilst watching the executions. From the first she had ever witnessed. She could still remember Frederick's neck snapping. She never wanted to sit still again. 

"We need to talk," whispered Flowey as he hung over her shoulder. She glanced down at him. 

"Am I in trouble?" She asked. Flowey pursed his seedy lips and hummed. 

"With me? Not at all… in general? You blew out the candle… even if you didn't start a riot, he noticed. He notices _everything._ I should know… Frisk I've been meaning to tell you something," he murmured. Frisk perked up at the words. Had he finally come to terms with opening up to her? She had a lot of suspicions... Were they about to be confirmed? 

"Asgore—"

"—Moxie?" Frisk whirled around at the sound of Alice's voice and Flowey ducked back under cover. Alice's ears were pressed back, her big, blue eyes wide as the two stared across at each other. Frisk felt a pang of concern. 

"Is everything ok?" She was a bit disappointed that Flowey had been interrupted, but that could always come later. Alice might have been in trouble. Alice looked around and grabbed her arm. _How did she get past the lions?_ Frisk grunted as she pulled her into a private reading room and shut the doors. 

"What's the deal?" She asked breathlessly as she put the pile of books down on the coffee table. Alice was shaking. 

"I trust that you're not going to lie to me… not like you'd be able to. You're not a tiefling. Your name isn't even Moxie is it?" she whispered. Frisk's eyes widened. _No…_ She slowly shook her head in denial. _How had she?_ Frisk recalled when they had hugged and Alice had lingered just a bit too long. She brought her fingers to her neck and traced the faint scars of Sans's bite. Her breath hitched. Monsters didn't bleed. Monsters didn't scar, at least not the way humans did. 

"What are you going to do?" She asked. Alice swallowed, her fingers wringing themselves with nerves. She looked like she was going to cry. 

"I don't know… I should turn you in. I'd get a pretty good reward. But… then that would hurt Bonnie and Charlotte…" 

"Then don't. I already know you don't want to because you came to me…so just… don't," Frisk cut in, her eyes wide. Her heart thundered in her ears as she tried to think her way through this. Alice clenched her jaw and shook her head. 

"You don't understand how many people you could ruin if this got out…and you've been lying to everyone," she spat. Frisk looked away, a guilty weight sagging at her soul. She hated lying to Charlotte and Bonnie and to have it said to her face only hurt her more. 

"Alice, I'm still the same person, just a different race—"

"—No, if anyone found you out, everyone who knew and helped you would be killed. And so would you. I'm not going to sit here and tell you what to do… but in everyone's best interest… you need to _quit_ Snowed Inn," she said. Frisk couldn't breath as the demand was thrown at her. Quit her job? That was all she had. She couldn't let that go. 

"I…are you going to turn me in if I don't?" Alice shook her head, a taut frown on her face. Frisk sighed in relief. 

"No. I would hope you were a good enough person. But that's not the point—"

"—I know. You think I should cut ties with everyone… I can't do that," she murmured. Alice frowned at her. 

"This isn't negotiable. People could die because of you." Frisk nodded knowingly. She couldn't just quit and cut ties. She needed this life she had made for herself… and even more, she wanted to be a light. She wanted to help these people little by little. Alice couldn't even begin to understand. 

"...Can I see you behind the mask? Rumor is humans are the most beautiful of all the races… I want to see if it's true…" Frisk frowned at the words, but she slowly pulled the mask off of her face to reveal her humanity. 

Alice's breath hitched in her throat and she swallowed a hard gulp. A dim flicker passed over her eyes. A mixture of envy and admiration. 

"They were right…" she whispered. Frisk lowered her gaze as she thought through the many scenarios. Charlotte needed her. Even if Alice filled her place, it was still only two full time employees. That wasn't nearly enough. Frisk, however, didn't want to hurt the La'Pine family. 

Before Frisk could say anything else, Alice pushed past her and left her alone. Flowey rose from her jacket once the door was shut. He was visibly shaken. Frisk didn't know what to do. On one hand, Alice was right. She shouldn't be putting people in danger just for a paycheck. It felt like much more than a paycheck though. It was a sisterhood. Charlotte was good to her. What would she do if she knew? Would she fire her? Turn her in? Try and kill her? 

"You might want to put the mask back on." _What's the point?_ She nodded slowly and fastened it to her face. She didn't know what to do. 

"I don't think you should quit…these people need someone like you. You give them hope everyday," he said softly. Frisk scoffed and slumped in a chair. 

"How?" She asked. Frisk glanced at the door and frowned. Alice was right. She was putting these people in jeopardy. She was going to join the Angelicans too, did she honestly think she could do both? 

"Because, Frisk… you've inspired the prince of the Underground to take a stand," murmured Flowey. Frisk froze and glanced at Flowey. What had he said? 

"Prince?" She whispered. Flowey averted her eyes and nodded slowly. 

"So maybe gardener was an understatement…" Frisk's eyes widened as she connected the dots. Of course. His strange connection with Toriel...his expansive knowledge of the Underground, his discomfort anytime the king was mentioned. It all made sense. She had suspicions of course but, having them said out loud made them real. So he was Asgore's son…and he hadn't always been a flower. 

"All the more reason to join the Angelicans. Think about how empowered they would be—"

"—Wait you're not… disgusted? Mad?" Frisk shot Flowey a puzzled look. 

"Why would I be mad?" She asked. If it was possible for a flower to blush, he would be blushing. He looked away and laughed nervously. 

"Of course you're not." Frisk smiled softly and delicately caressed his yellow petals. His eyes narrowed in thought before he looked up at her, a question forming on his lips. 

"What about the Angelicans?" He asked skeptically. _Oh right, I haven't told him the plan._

"I'm… gonna join them. After the Purge I just…" she trailed off when she saw the horror-stricken look on Flowey's face. 

"Frisk… you can't do that. The Angelicans don't stand a chance against—"

"—With me they will—"

"—What makes you so sure about that?" Frisk placed a hand over her heart. 

"I have Determination… _and_ you. You're the heir to the throne. With us on their side they'll have hope. That's something that has been stripped away from them. We can give it back. Alice is right, I'm not helping anyone by serving myself down here. I'll do more harm than good trying to parade around as something I'm not. I… she's right, I'll have to quit working for Charlotte. Hopefully I can still be her friend," she said, tears pricking her eyes at the possibility that she could lose the dear woman. Flowey's frown softened as he came to an understanding. 

"Well… as stupid as I think this is… I'm not about to stop trusting you now," he said with a firm nod. Frisk smiled sadly. At the end of the day, Flowey was one of her most cherished friends in this Underworld. He always pulled through for her, no matter what. 

  
  


⁂

_" 'Ello, Love!"_

_"Doug… I need you to teach me how to sword fight."_

_"... What now?"_

⁂

  
  


Metal screamed on metal as Frisk and Doug sparred together. Frisk's mind was filled with thoughts as she twisted and turned with the blade. 

Frisk had learned to fight when she had been married to Damian. Leo has taken her under his wing and taught her how to box. She learned kick boxing on her own, and had taken multiple women's self-defense classes at the local gym. 

The closest Frisk had ever gotten to sword training was a fencing class she took with Tiana. She was decent, but Tiana whooped her ass any chance she could get and so Frisk stopped going with her and eventually stopped going altogether. 

_I have to quit Snowed Inn. Alice is right. How do I do it though? Charlotte told me she needed someone she could trust. What if I told her I was a human, and then she could decide? I feel like that would just put her family in worse danger._

"You're not payin' attention are ya?" Frisk gasped as he knocked her off of her feet and she plummeted to her ass. 

" _Connard,"_ She grumbled as she picked herself back up. Doug snickered to himself and took a drag of the cigar that had been hanging out of his lips for the past half hour. 

"What makes you want to learn the blade?" He asked, his tail wagging slightly. She glanced at Flowey and gave an innocent shrug. 

"Seems like a good skill… Doug… Alice knows I'm a human," she said as she parried a blow. His eyes widened and Frisk noticed a falter in his step. She smirked slightly and lunged forward, thrusting the tip of his blade into the chest of his leather armor. He held his hands up and gave a growlish laugh. 

"You're a fast learner… Is that so? Alice really knows? How did she find out?" He asked. Frisk was embarrassed to admit the truth. _Carelessness._

"Um, I got a cut of sorts and was bleeding. Monsters don't exactly bleed…" It wasn't a lie. It wasn't the whole truth either. Doug rose a brow, his ears twitching in thought. 

"Well what did she say?" He asked as the two sat down on a log to catch a break. They were alone in the woods to make sure no one would catch them. 

"She told me to quit working for Charlotte, that I'd do more harm than good. I just… I know she's right, but… Charlotte needs me," she murmured. Doug whined doggishly as he tried to think of a solution. 

"What about your job and everything you've worked for? I know how much it all means to you," he said as he got back up and handed her back the sword he was letting her use. She smiled sadly and followed after him. 

"After the Purge… I'm beginning to find that there are things I care more about. I want to protect Charlotte and if working for her puts her in danger, then what the fuck am I doing?" She asked. Doug chuckled wryly and shrugged. 

"Well then, lass, that's your answa'... Now this next move I'm goin' to teach you is called the Long Tail Guard. It was used many years ago in what you humans would call medieval times. Now… charge at me, and I'll show you how it works," he said with a challenging smirk. Frisk rolled her eyes playfully. 

"Is this a convoluted plot to kick my ass?" She teased. His tail wagged and he gave a half-hearted shrug. 

"You're the one that wanted to learn how to sword fight, love," he said with a wink. She smirked before hoisting her sword up and charging. She noticed how he was standing first. His sword was below his waist, crossed over his knee as he leaned away from her. What happened next she could barely comprehend. 

Frisk gasped as he effortlessly knocked her sword away, sending her balance off. He used her imbalance to his advantage, crossing his arm over her chest and knocking her to her feet. Frisk panted as he lightly tapped her collar with the point of his blade. 

"Show off," she breathed. Doug snickered and pulled her up. 

"Alright, let's go ova' it slowa' and then you can try. As if you would eva' be able to knock me down," he said. She quirked a brow. 

"Oh is that a challenge?" She asked. He grinned and the two proceeded with the lesson, giggling and teasing each other as they went. Frisk loved Doug. He and Flowey were probably the closest thing she'd ever had to brothers. 

They went at this move for what felt like hours as Frisk tried her best to get it down into her muscle memory. She still couldn't knock him down, but she had successfully parried his swings and jabs. She tried to think of the strategy he had used against her, and as he charged, it suddenly clicked in her brain. _Of course! You knock him off balance, you can knock him to the ground!_

She swiped his sword away, her soul burning as she was filled with the determination to win. She had always been a little competitive. The force of her blow was enough to put him off balance and she practically threw her body into him. Doug went tumbling. She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and held the sword up to his throat. She tried to ignore the screaming pain in her shoulder. 

"Well look at you," he said. Frisk grinned and stepped away. She spun her sword with a flourishing flick of her wrist as pride swelled in her soul. 

"Taking advantage of an old blind dog," he whined playfully. She groaned and helped him up. 

"Oh please, don't give me that," she said. He snickered and took his sword back. 

"Alright, alright. You make an excellent student. Same time tomorrow?" He asked. Frisk smiled brightly and the two shook on it with excitement. 

"Of course! You make an excellent teacher," she said as she got her things together. 

"Well, don't you think excellent teachers deserve rewards? Give me a scratch and we'll call that your payment," he said as he leaned his head down. Frisk giggled and scratched behind his ears. _Such a dog._ The thought brought a soft smile to her lips. She could definitely use something to smile about. 

Doug's tail wagged happily and eventually he pulled back and offered his arm. She graciously took it and with that, they began their usual walk back to the brothers' farm house. 

"Say, Frisk, you wouldn't be happenin' to be goin' to the equinox Masquerade, would ya?" He asked. Frisk furrowed her brow. _The what now?_ He sensed the question in her hesitation and he shrugged. 

"They haven't told you? I thought they would. It's the higher ups in the army and nobles who are invited. It's one of the ways the rich people relax after the Purge while we poor saps have to drink our sorrows away and try and sit through one of Mettaton's awful movies… speakin' of which, have you seen Love in the Arena? His newest one?" He was rambling so much, she didn't have time to process any of his information. A masquerade? Had the brothers mentioned a masquerade? Would she be going? _Would Sans and I… no, no… well, maybe._ Her thoughts were swept away as she imagined swaying in Sans's arms. Until she reminded herself who Sans was. He wasn't romantic, or at least he hadn't been so far. 

"Are ya listenin?... Still worried about Charlotte? Charlotte's a strong woman. She's not petty either. I'm sure she'd understand," he said as they made it to the farmhouse. She nodded slowly. Yes that was _exactly_ what she was thinking about. _Technically it is in the back of my mind. I don't want to let her down._ She was also still processing the fact Flowey was the prince of the Underground… and the fact there would be a masquerade ball. 

"I'll do it tomorrow. It's a two week notice, so I'll get some more work in. Hopefully by then, she'll have Alice to replace me," she said. Doug nodded at her. 

"It was really good of you to offer that girl some help. I… I honestly feel ashamed of myself for partakin' in that club. I promise you I won't give that bastard anymore money," he said. Flowey smiled at her. 

"Yeah, she's slowly chipping away at everyone, isn't she?" He said. Doug grinned and gave her a bow, before he waved goodbye and loped back down the road. She waved him off before she turned to the house and entered through the front door. _I have to ask Papyrus about this masquerade thing_ , she thought as she took her mask off. Why hadn't he told her sooner? 

"Human! I've been expecting you." Frisk's heart jumped into her throat when she saw Papyrus standing right in front of her. He paid no mind to her mini heart attack and dragged her into his office. 

"I have been so preoccupied and busy with the Purge that I failed to recognize the glaringly obvious event coming up and your involvement!" It wasn't exactly true, it plagued his mind everyday, but he had completely forgotten the more basic necessities. Like, for instance, a ball gown. Were women always this expensive? 

"My involvement..?" Something about the way he said that unnerved her. 

"You're going to the ball with us. Sans and I. We are allowed a plus one, and _you_ are my plus one," he said as he held up a gilded invitation. _So many things are happening today!_ She felt a bit guilty that she was bubbling with excitement. She had never been able to attend a fancy dance! The closest she had ever gotten were her own ballet recitals and her _wedding._ All her previous ponderings fled her mind as she was struck with childlike enthusiasm. 

"As a consequence, I will have to take you dress shopping in my least favorite place. _The Core—"_

"—You're taking me to a ball? Like a real one? Like the one that all the storybook princesses went to?" Papyrus shot her a bewildered look. He had never heard her sound so excited before. Even she was a bit surprised with herself, it's not like she hadn't just heard about it from Doug. Knowing it was real and she was going just felt different in a way. 

"Yes…?"

" _OH MON DIEU! Je vais au bal! Incroyable! C'est ce que chaque petite fille rêve de faire et je le fais!_ I've always wanted to go to one! I know, I know it sounds stupid but… thank you. This really made my day. I was not… this… wow. A _masquerade._ Can you believe that Flowey?" Papyrus's face fell as he listened to her ramblings of excitement. Flowey nodded enthusiastically. 

"That's great, Frisk!" There was a sadness in his voice, and Frisk caught it. She understood. He was the prince after all. She was sure being around the nobles and in the palace would remind him of his old life. 

Frisk smiled sadly at him. Papyrus coughed awkwardly and glanced away, a guilt-ridden grimace growing on his face. 

"So… early tomorrow, you don't have work, correct?" He asked. She nodded and he gave a small grunt. 

"Well then, I'll take you to a boutique and buy you a dress," he said. She frowned. It didn't feel right to go shopping and quit a job all in one day. 

"Ok… Oh, Papyrus, I'm going to quit Snowed Inn… after the Purge I… I came to a realization that I didn't want anyone to be hurt because of me," she said, leaving out the part where Alice had been the one to confront her. Papyrus's eye sockets widened. 

"Oh…?" He asked, a thoughtful look falling on his face. Frisk could've sworn he looked almost _pleased_ with that news. 

"Alright. Well then, after we go shopping you can swing by the Inn and turn in your two weeks notice and resignation," he said. She nodded along. She should probably write it while it was fresh in her mind. She glanced back at the golden letter sitting on Papyrus's desk and smiled giddily to herself. 

This was good. Not only could she have a fun time after the awful week she'd had, but she'd also be able to study the people standing in the Angelicans' way. 

Half of her was weighed down with the knowledge that Flowey was the heir to the throne, Alice knew her humanity, and she'd have to quit working for Charlotte. The other half of her was giddy; light with the excitement and training with swords with Doug, the adventure and good that would come with joining with the Angelicans and finally being of real use to people… and, of course the masquerade.

Maybe then...well, maybe then she and Sans could work out their strange relationship. Maybe they could dance together. She knew she was falling for him, despite her better judgement. Would he admit to being in love with her? Like he had that night they had shared together? Her soul was exploding with the warring emotions. So much was happening around her, and she was standing at the front of it all, fist raised defiantly. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Doug continues to be a good boy, and Frisk’s excitement breaks my cold, iron heart. 
> 
> Up Next: We take a break from our protagonists and delve into the personal life of a cowardly, and quite frankly, misunderstood soldier.


	37. Sanctuary

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Sanctuary

* * *

Water gurgled and swirled around General Undyne's boots as she picked her way through the piles of garbage littering the ground. She rummaged through the trash that was fed by the Underground's many districts and the surface. That last fact made the Dump into a taboo. Any law abiding citizen never ventured there in fear of finding anything related to humanity. As far as Undyne was concerned, she _was_ the law. 

Although with the way the raid on the Angelicans went, she wasn't too sure she'd keep that position. They had moved their base, and it was a complete failure. She knew Papyrus was after her rank, and part of her wanted to just give it to him. He wasn't like her, he wasn't exhausted. 

She glanced over as she saw a pile of old movies. Human movies. She grunted and rummaged through them. 

Undyne herself despised humanity, but she was willing to do anything for her partner. _She_ had a strange fascination with humanity. Who was she to judge? Undyne knew her partner wasn't able to go out as often as she was, so she tried not to complain. 

Her eye glimmered as she found a DVD collection. She turned it over on the back and squinted as she tried to read the faded words. _Studio Ghibli Film collection. Alphys will like this,_ she thought to herself as she stuffed it in her backpack. Things were getting worse for her, and all Undyne could do was watch. Lately Alphys was even busier than normal. It was the little things like this that made it better. 

As Undyne trekked through the murky water and garbage, she thought she heard the faint plucking of banjo strings. Her heart stilled and her steps faltered. She listened intently as she tried to pick out the sound. Someone else was down here then… probably a scavenger. 

_"I'm waiting, waiting, waiting for the sun to show._

_Till then I'm wastin' away, rottin in the Underbelly._

_Prayin to a god that's turned away his face._

_Starin' in the abyss, hoping for a break._

_Hopin' that the madman will fall into his grave._

_Then we'll be saved, saved, saved."_

The words and melody were bleak, and the soft strum of the banjo seemed to grow more aggressive at the repeated words. Undyne found it captivating. She peaked around the corner to find a mannequin plucking at the banjo strings, an ethereal light surrounding it and emanating from its chest. It was being possessed, Undyne knew that for sure. She lived just outside of Ghost Town, she was familiar with their ways. What was strange about this one was all the mannequins surrounding it. It was like he was playing _to_ them. _Well you don't see that everyday._

"Did you like it? Did you like it? Did you like it?" He looked to each of his mannequins and asked the same question over and over. Undyne felt a chill crawl down her spine as she watched. 

"I don't hear any applause." His voice was low, and shook her bones. Part of her wanted to investigate, but she was sure anyone who spent their lives down here had nothing left. She had learned not to get into fights with people who had nothing to live for. The scars on her face reminded her of that everyday. With that in mind, Undyne slowly backed away. She didn't want any part of this. She had found what she needed. 

Truly, Undyne was ruled by cautious fear. A deep part of her soul was ashamed of the person she had become, but what other option did she have? She was stuck. She had lost hope.

She glanced down at her back pack. The only light she had in all this darkness was Alphys, but that light was going dim. The thought made her frown. 

Eventually, she made it out of the dump and jogged down to the ferry stop. Undyne hated having to use these things. Sometimes she really hated those damn reapers and their overpowered magic. It was a good thing there were only two of them. The world wouldn't be able to survive with an abundance of skeletons running around. _Undyne_ knew that firsthand. 

She really disliked going to Hotland, but she had forced herself to get used to it. She prepared herself for these trips. She had plenty of water bottles in her backpack, lotion, and chapstick to keep herself moisturized and hydrated. 

The ferry came after a quiet moment's wait and she climbed on. It was mostly empty, if not for a couple of stragglers that promptly gave her a wide berth of space. She personally hated it when they did that, but Asgore did a good job putting fear in people's hearts for his military might. She also had just been the face of the Purge—no one was going to be showering her with adoration any time soon. Not that she expected it. A sickness crept in her stomach and she looked away. She hated the image she had, truly she hated a lot of things about her life. _Not much I can do about it._

Tritons weren't the most powerful monsters. Undyne had worked hard for the position she had. Triton's might have been weak, but _she_ wasn't. She was strong and powerful and... Or at least, she used to be. Now she was just tired. 

The comfortable darkness of Waterfall fell away and she squinted as the harsh red light of Hotland invaded her eyes. She was hit by the wave of heat and she hunched over. She'd muscle through the heat, because seeing Alphys was the highlight of her week. 

Undyne jumped out from the ferry once she had made it, and she began the journey to Alphys's lab. It was one of the smaller buildings in Hotland, and one of the only useful ones. There were way too many casinos. It was an open secret that they were all owned by one person; Ms. Muffet. Undyne didn't even know if that was legal, but Asgore favored certain elite monsters to the rest of his citizens. 

Alphys's lab was a diamond in the rough. It was surrounded by tinted, one-way glass that reflected the heat from the magma, which surrounded it on all sides. The entrance was a long, enclosed, glass bridge that crossed over the magma and required top security clearance to get into. Undyne was fortunately granted that clearance due to her status and relationship. Alphys had made sure to make her priority long ago. 

She leaned against the door as she entered the password and pressed her thumb into the print scanner. She sighed as it blared and the doors unlocked. As she passed through the hall, the lights flashed on; it was all so sterile and robotic. 

Undyne pulled out a water bottle from her back pack and downed it as she leaned against the wall. _Hmm...where is she? She knew I was coming today, right?_ She always came on Sundays. Hopefully Alphys hadn't gotten so invested in her work she forgot. 

The laboratory felt empty, if not for the small robots roaming around and carrying supplies. They weren't as impressive as Mettaton, but they were functional. Where was Alphys? 

"Alphie? You here, babe?" What if she was high? What if she overdosed? She was no stranger to the trials of addiction and even though they were trying to overcome it, sometimes Alphys had her lapses. It didn't help that she had one of the most stressful positions in the Underground. Undyne began to panic and she jogged through the sterile white hallways. 

"Alphys!" She called frantically. She still didn't know every nook and cranny of this place, which was by design. Even someone like her couldn't have access to the deeper layers of a Royal Scientist's lab. _Doesn't help right now. She could be down there. Oh God, what if she's dead?_

_"ALPHYS!"_ She screamed as her panic began to spike. Had Asgore followed through with his threat? An elevator opened and Alphys shuffled out. She looked absolutely exhausted. Undyne sighed in relief at the sight of her and she jogged over. 

"Oh, is it… is it Sunday already?" She asked groggily. Undyne studied the woman before her. She was hunched over, her lab coat stained with coffee. 

"Have you been hyper focused?" She asked as she reached for Alphys's hand. Undyne found comfort in that scaley, yellow hand and she smiled softly. If she was a hero to anyone, it was Alphys.

"I've been… I've been busy. You—you know how it is," she stammered as they made their way to a break room. Undyne nodded knowingly as she sat down beside her. 

"I know…have you been clean?" She asked. Alphys shot her a look. She was jittery. That could've been the shakes or an excessive amount of caffeine. It was probably both. 

"I haven't had any painkillers since you raided all my medicine cabinets," she said a bit venomously, but Undyne didn't take it personally. She was good at that, and she knew Alphys's anger was more directed at herself. 

"Good. This is good for you. You know that right?" She squeezed Alphys's hand. Alphys smiled sadly at her and nodded. 

"Of course… I still don't know why you care so much. I'm so pathetic," she whispered. Undyne's eye widened and she leaned forward. 

"That's not true. I wish you'd stop saying that," she said firmly. Alphys glanced up at her and shrugged miserably. The work must've been taking a huge toll on her. 

"What does he have you doing down there?" She asked. Alphys glanced away, a dark look passing over her eyes. 

"A new project. It's pretty interesting but… it's definitely taking a toll… thank you for listening. You're really the only person I trust anymore, you know that?" Undyne smiled sadly and rubbed Alphys's shoulder. 

"I could say the same about you," she said. Alphys smiled and leaned against her. The two sat like that for a while. It was nice. They were both tired all of the time, and they only really found solace in each other. 

Eventually, Undyne broke the comfortable silence and cleared her throat. 

"I got you a gift, from the dump," she announced. Alphys sat up, her eyes immediately glistening with excitement. Undyne stood up and flipped her hair off her shoulder as she reached into her backpack. 

"I know you like those cartoons, so… ta-da!" She exclaimed. Alphys gasped in delight and reached forth to snatch it out of her hands. 

"Studio Ghibli! I've read so many sources saying that their films are classics! Thank you…This will definitely help me get through the week. How many are in here?" She asked. Undyne shrugged. It was really hard to tell. What was amazing was just how much great finds there were. Humans just didn't appreciate the little things. 

Alphys opened it up and flipped through the CDs. She pursed her lips and counted them. 

"Oh, damn, there's one missing. Nevermind, I'm sure it'll be great, and I'll get one of my bots on fixing the scratched parts. Thank you." Undyne smiled and gave Alphys a tight embrace. 

"Anything for you, babe," she murmured. Alphys hugged her back.

"Do you want to… to watch it? I-I have two—I have two more hours before I… before I need to get back to work." Undyne nodded and let Alphys lead her to her personal nook. She watched Alphys put the first DVD in her little TV with a fond twinkle in her eye. She came to sit on the sagging, leather sofa and pulled Alphys in to sit beside her. 

"I've missed you," whispered Alphys as she pressed the power button and navigated the menu. Undyne gave a small kiss to Alphys's crest. 

"Me too… you're going to go with me to the Equinox ball right?" She asked. Alphys blushed and looked away. 

"I don't know if I can. Asgore assigned me this new assignment and… I don't think he wants to see me unless I have results," she said. Undyne frowned. 

"I'm sure he won't mind if you're there as my plus one," she murmured. Alphys shrugged. 

"I just really need to focus on this. I don't want to let him down. He seemed really passionate about this project," she whispered. Undyne shot Alphys a puzzled look. 

"I'm sorry, I want to—"

"—No, it's fine. It's just some stupid aristocrat, cocktail party anyway—"

"—I'll see if I can make it, I'll request—"

"—No really, it's ok. Let's just watch the movie, we can talk about this some other time." Alphys faltered, before she sighed and nodded along. The two hugged each other close. Any moment they could be ripped away from each other. 

Halfway into the movie, Undyne leaned over and kissed Alphys's shoulder. Alphys blushed furiously and hid her face. 

"I just wanted to remind you that I love you," she whispered. Alphys smiled softly and clasped her hand in hers. 

"I love you too. I wish things were different," she murmured. Undyne hummed knowingly and kissed her collar bone. 

"At least we have each other." Alphys ran a shaking hand through her hair and giggled. They did have each other. Undyne and Alphys against the world. She was the only person that mattered to Undyne anymore. She was the only one Undyne could help. Even if the only thing she was doing was helping her become sober and helping her build her self esteem that the king and her own illnesses had knocked down. Undyne wished she could extend the energy she had for Alphys to the rest of the Underground, but for now their special relationship would have to do. 

At least when they were together, they felt neither cowardly nor pathetic. Their souls flickered harmoniously. Undyne smiled at the warmth in the center of her chest. The king couldn't take this away from her. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Undyne and Alphys break my heart. 🥺 
> 
> On another note, I've been thinking of doing one shot "What Ifs" for this story. Like you guys could ask to have a what if scenario and I could write it, so it's very interactive. If that's something you'd want, go ahead and tell me. 
> 
> Up Next: Papyrus takes Frisk shopping


	38. Preparations

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Preparations 

* * *

Today was going to be a busy day. Frisk stood in front of her mirror as she made sure her outfit was good enough to wear in public, but not too put together that Charlotte would be offended when she inevitably quit her position.  _ This is going to be harder than a break up, isn't it?  _ The thought was almost laughable. 

Once she was sure she was good to go, she fastened her mask on and jogged downstairs to meet up with Papyrus. Frisk glanced behind her at Sans's door and pursed her lips as she descended. She supposed today would just be her and Papyrus. That was ok. She liked Papyrus's company.  _ Papyrus _ didn't distract her. With him by her side, she knew she'd be able to get things done and be productive. They would go dress shopping…and then she would quit her job. She wasn't excited about that last part. 

"Finally ready? We don't have all day," snapped Papyrus when she met him in the foyer. She rolled her eyes.  _ Sometimes  _ she liked Papyrus's company, and  _ other  _ times he could be an ass. The brothers really were more alike than they'd like to admit. Frisk smirked at the thought. 

Red-orange mist surrounded them, and like that, they were gone. 

Frisk gasped for air when they resurfaced in an alleyway in the large city of the Core. She glanced down at Flowey as he shook himself out from the shock that always accompanied teleporting. It was like being dumped into ice water and boiling water at the same time. However, she found herself getting used to it. Her ability to adapt was one of the only reasons she was still alive, other than Determination. 

"Let's make this snappy," grumbled Papyrus, and Frisk fell into a hurried jog beside him. His strides were much too large to keep up with at a walking pace. 

Walking through the crowds of high fashion monsters was an experience she didn't know she was ready for. Demons dressed to the nines was something she found exciting. The clean cut suits and colorful dresses took her back to Italy. No one would've ever been caught dead in casual wear in a place like Sicily. It was both stressful and nostalgic for her. She was just glad she was with a reaper. Their ability to teleport was her personal life saver. 

"Flowey, why are skeletons called reapers?" She asked quietly; they weaved through the monsters crowding the streets as she tried to keep up with the skeleton before her. Flowey hummed in thought. 

"Well… if I remember correctly… when they kill someone, that person's soul is taken to the void, a bubble just between dimensions,  _ just  _ between life and death. It's definitely not somewhere you want your soul to go, that's for sure. That's where they draw their power, which is why it's so… limitless—"

"—Don't be ridiculous, weed. Of course our magic has limits." Frisk and Flowey squeaked at Papyrus's abrupt interruption. She quickly recovered and raced to catch up with him, a new question forming on her lips. 

"Well if you're all reapers, who's the Grim Reaper?" She asked. Papyrus rolled his eyes as if she should've already known that piece of trivia. 

"The Grim Reaper is a myth passed down by paranoid humans  _ and  _ monsters alike who were scared of the reapers' magic of course… but… if you must know… there was an old king," he murmured. Frisk's eyes widened. She had never heard about this in all of her history studies. 

"Oh? Do tell!" She exclaimed with a glimmer in her eyes. Papyrus frowned down at her, that same guilt ridden grimace that Sans wore almost on a daily basis these days. They  _ really  _ had a lot more in common than they'd like to admit. 

"Lord Fraktur. An old king from the dark ages. He was said to be the most powerful reaper and he went kingdom to kingdom rampaging villages and conquering land during the Bubonic Plague. The only thing that stopped him was his own powers imploding on himself. A reaper and their dragon can't coexist in the same plane of existence, but the more powerful a reaper becomes, the more a dragon can materialize in our world. As you can tell, it didn't exactly go in his favor, all that power," he explained with a small grin. 

There was something so satisfying about sharing the stories that had been passed down the generations. Especially to someone who seemed to genuinely care and want to learn. He frowned and looked away from her sparkling eyes. 

"That's really interesting. So was he kind of like Vlad the Impaler? I'm pretty sure that's where the vampire myth originated," she said. Papyrus grunted, signaling to her that he'd had enough of the conversation. Frisk sighed in a short-lived disappointment, for at that moment, Papyrus was leading her into a boutique.

"We might have gotten here too late," murmured Papyrus. Frisk glanced around at the racks of clothes. Most of them were gone or were the ugly dresses that no one would wear. She shrugged and went to go look. 

"Well, there's always other places," she said. Papyrus shook his head. 

"That would be Muffet territory and I'm not about to drop two grand on a  _ dress,"  _ he spat. Her eyes widened.  _ Two grand?  _

"Which reminds me, did we ever get rid of that suit she gave you?" He asked. Frisk shook her head as she sifted through the dresses. He grit his teeth. 

"Well I'm sure she'll be at the masquerade. I'll give it back to her then. It's important we give it back to her because if we don't… let's just say when she gives favors, she expects favors back." he grunted. Frisk considered him. She didn't think she'd ever find herself in that kind of position.  _ Well no one will touch me with you by my side.  _

"Lieutenant! It's an honor to have you grace our shop, is there anything we can help you with?" Asked a bird-like monster. If Frisk remembered correctly, an Aaracockra. Papyrus grunted and waved him off, but before he could get away, Frisk stopped him. 

"Actually, I could use your help. I need extra small dresses," she said. The clerk nodded at her and led her through the boutique until they got to a small rack. It was completely full. Barely anyone shared her size. 

"There you go ma'am. Is there anything else?" Frisk shook her head and he wandered away to help another customer. Papyrus shortly joined her and sifted through the dresses as well. Most of the dresses were much too showy, and while she liked that style, it would be too risky to wear a dress that showed off her body. 

She took several dresses into her arms hoping they would suffice, and it was then that she saw the one.  _ Oh my God, look at that dress.  _ It looked to be her perfect size. It was a beautiful, deep burgundy and covered in big maroon roses. A cordovan colored sash tied around it's cinched waistline. It would look lovely with her skin tone. She smiled and grabbed it off the rack. She didn't even want to try on the other dresses anymore. 

"I'll be right back…" Under her breath, she murmured pleas for it to fit in French. As she closed the door behind her, she turned to Flowey. 

"I love this one—"

"—It's really pretty—"

"—Right?" She grinned a giddy smile and began to derobe herself. Flowey promptly shut his eyes so as not to peek. He had grown accustomed to the no-peak rule even before knowing Frisk. That was usually the case when your best friend was your adoptive sister. 

She pulled it up and asked Flowey to zip her. He did as told and she straightened as it tightened around her. It was really low cut, but she had silk shirts that could fill it in… Even though her cleavage looked amazing.  _ Hm, Sans would definitely like it.  _ A small shiver went down her spine as she recalled the look he often gave her. 

"Frisk, I need to talk to you about the masquerade… but it doesn't have to be now. We can discuss it when we get home," murmured Flowey. Frisk glanced at him, a flicker of concern passing over her eyes. 

"Ok, whenever you're ready to talk, you know I'll be there," she said. He nodded. With that, she began to strip from the dress and put her old clothes back on. She was definitely getting that dress. She had brought her wallet, so maybe she could even pay for it herself. That would be nice. She didn't like financially relying on the brothers… or anyone for that matter. She had lived like that for so long and she hated the way it made her feel. So inferior. Helpless.  _ You do have to save up your gold though if you're going to quit.  _

She disregarded the thought. She had plenty of money in her bank account, and it's not like she went on lots of shopping sprees. She could afford one last big splurge. 

With that in mind, she left the dressing room and made her way to the counter. 

"That didn't take too long, are you ready?" Asked Papyrus as he followed behind her. She smiled and nodded. She checked the price tag. Not bad. Not as bad as two grand. It was only a hundred sixty. What a steal! 

"Alright, I guess it's a better bargain than Muffet's fashion," murmured Papyrus as he leafed through his gold. She put her hand up and smiled. 

"I can pay for it." She braced herself for a fight. She had after all, lived with men who felt emasculated by not being able to pay all the time. Papyrus considered her before he grunted and pulled back. 

"Well if you have it, then take it away," he said with a half bow. Frisk smiled underneath that pesky mask and pulled out her money. The clerk smiled down at her as she gave him the gold.

The transaction was complete and the two left with the shopping bag in hand. Frisk felt a small, giddy warmth inside of her. She glanced up at Papyrus. He and his brother had been through a lot, and even though they hid their goodness with their anger, the way they had treated her for the past two months really proved they were more than the society that surrounded them. All of the monsters were. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was real, and she felt like other people considered her as a real person as well. Not an asset or stain on good reputations, but a genuine person. 

She hadn't disregarded the beginning, but things had changed greatly since then. She considered the brothers, Flowey, and the residents of Snowden to be some kind of strange family to her. She felt like she had a place in all of this, even if her existence as a human was cursed. The idea warmed her soul. 

"Papyrus… I uh, I've been thinking," she murmured. Papyrus hummed and shot her a curious look. She shifted nervously. She had never really discussed her feelings with the sharp Lieutenant of the Underground. However, something inside of her egged her on. 

"I just wanted to thank you. As crazy as it sounds, and it does sound crazy… But, living with you has been the first time I've felt like I've mattered. I wouldn't have felt that way if you hadn't been so considerate and made room for me. I don't care what motivated you to do that, but, it really means a lot. You have no idea what I've been through and just… it's those little gestures like not standing in the way as I pay for my stuff that matters," she said as they turned down a quieter street. Papyrus's eye sockets widened and he looked away. A darkness passed over his eye lights. 

"Do you really mean that?" He asked quietly. She nodded slowly. She hated the fact she'd have to quit her job. Charlotte really was like a big sister to her, and so was Bonnie. She didn't know how she'd react. She was beginning to have second thoughts, but Alice's words echoed in her head. She cared too much about her surrogate family to put them in danger. 

"I do… and I know you and your brother have been the only ones there for each other for the longest time… but, and  _ c'est peut-être stupide,  _ but I… I guess what I'm trying to say is, I want to be there for you two. Since you've been there when I've needed you," she rambled, referring in that last bit to when they had saved her life from Damian and nursed her back to health. She wasn't even trying to flatter him anymore, she really meant what she was saying. 

Papyrus faltered in his step and gazed curiously across at her. She noticed the guilt ridden grimace forming on his face and she frowned. Was there something he and Sans were hiding? She couldn't seem to figure them out, but she wanted to trust them so badly, if only to keep that feeling of worth she now had.

As quickly as the look appeared, he shook it away and smiled at her. He didn't respond at all, but she could somehow tell she had touched a soft spot deep within his soul. Or at least, she hoped she did. 

"Shall we be on with our schedule?" He asked with a croak in his voice. She nodded curtly. She needed to get this part of her day over with. She had her resignation letter in her purse, but she knew it would be better if she quit in person. She knew she'd have to be partially honest about the reason she was quitting. She wouldn't reveal her true identity, but she couldn't lie. She couldn't lie to Charlotte anymore. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


It was a slow day in Snowden. The usual crowds had been reduced to small dwindling numbers as they meandered the streets. That slow-town-feel usually crept around by the afternoon. 

Frisk stood outside of the Hotel, her heart thundering in her ears. What was she even going to say? She glanced back at Papyrus and he gestured for her to go on and get it over with. He was right. 

Frisk let out a taut sigh and jogged up the stairs. She slipped into the doors, making a beeline for the counter. Charlotte was waiting at the desk and her eyes brightened at the sight of her. 

"Oh! Moxie, honey, I wasn't expecting you to drop by," she said. A pang shot through Frisk's heart and she sighed. 

"Hi…Can we talk alone in the office?" She asked as she darted a look around them. Charlotte frowned with concern, but she nodded and led Frisk to her office. The two sat down and Frisk pursed her lips as she thought her way through this. 

"Charlotte, there's something I've been hiding from you." She could feel Flowey tense.  _ Don't worry I'm not going to tell her I'm a human…  _

"I know. I've had my suspicions for a long time." Frisk's eyes widened. She hadn't been expecting that. 

"Wha-what?" Charlotte swallowed and glanced away. 

"Um, you didn't know anything about our culture and… you didn't even know about how the brothers' got into power. Everyone knows that. Besides, the brothers would never take a random tiefling in… I understand why you're hiding…Bonnie and I didn't say anything or do anything because… we just like you so much, and to be honest, I mean at first, we were terrified of the reapers. Despite that, you're a good friend… and you've made the brothers act so differently. In a way." Frisk was thoroughly shocked.  _ Wow, I am not good at this disguise thing, am I? How have I not been killed yet?  _

"Well…are you sure you want me around your family and your business? If anyone else found out, anyone who was out for a reward or… you could be in serious danger," she said. Charlotte frowned and sat back.

"I know… it's been conflicting me for a while. I feel like the damage is already done, I wouldn't be able to escape from the mere fact I hired you in the first place… so I really don't know what to do," she said. Frisk frowned. Her existence really had put people in danger. 

"But at the same time, I could do literally anything out of place and I would get the same sentence… so… it looks like we're both in a bit of a pickle…" Frisk nodded slowly. 

"Who else knows?" She asked. Charlotte shrugged. 

"If anyone else did know they haven't done anything. You have a lot of people on your side. No one really wants to give more power to the king, and I think we're all holding out for a miracle," she said softly. Frisk nodded along. She felt like the wind had just been knocked out of her. Something about that statement sounded like Charlotte may've thought she  _ was  _ the miracle. Frisk shook her head. 

"Well then… I don't know what to do. I was going to quit in an effort to protect you and your family," she murmured. Charlotte smiled sadly. 

"You're a good person. You have a good soul… if you think quitting this job would somehow protect me, then I'll honor that," she said with a sad, knowing smile. Frisk felt her eyes well. What kind of world had she been dumped into? Where the worst of the worst, the demons, were the nicest people to her she had ever met? It was ironic but in the most comforting way. 

"I… I think that's what's best," she murmured. Charlotte nodded. 

"You're still welcome hun, so don't you dare be a stranger," she said. Frisk smiled, despite the mask needlessly covering her face. The two reached over the desk and gave each other a tight embrace. 

They bid each other their fond goodbyes before Frisk made her way back out to meet with Papyrus. He looked deep in thought, faraway in some distant land. He snapped back to attention when he noticed her presence and he gave a sharp grunt. 

"Shall we be off then?" He asked. She nodded solemnly and he reached for her as red-orange smoke swirled around them. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Flowey didn't know what to think about the events unfolding before him. Frisk wanting desperately to join the Angelicans, him finally admitting out loud that he was the son of that monster on the throne, and Charlotte's quiet knowledge. He was exhausted with the mind boggling truth of it all. They were like Icarus flying too close to the sun. 

When they were alone in their room, Flowey piped up. He had needed to talk to her. Now was the time. 

"Frisk, I don't want to go to the masquerade. I can't be there. I can't be in that palace. I'm trying to get stronger, but at my own pace. Things are happening so fast and… I really need time to come to terms with everything that's happened," he said as they sat on the bed together. Frisk nodded thoughtfully as she considered him. 

"I understand… one concern, what about the tiefling horns? Do you think you could grow them and then cut them off for future use?" She suggested. Flowey nodded curtly. 

"I think that'll have to do. I'm sorry, I don't want to leave you alone, but I just—"

"—Hey, you were right to tell me how you feel ok? You're not just an accessory, and you're not a side kick. You're a person, the same as me. If you don't want to go, I'm not going to drag you there." Flowey smiled softly at her words of validation. 

"Thank you. You're really the greatest friend I've had in a long time," he whispered to stop his voice from cracking. Frisk smiled and brought him in an embrace. Flowey had done nothing but help her; he deserved some sort of break. 

"My only condition is that I come back to more of your beautiful art," she declared. Flowey snickered and nodded. 

"Oh fine," he grumbled teasingly. The two giggled with each other, before they sighed. That day had been surprisingly fulfilling. Frisk couldn't have been happier than she was right then. She had a place here. She was  _ worth  _ something. She was surrounded by people who loved and appreciated her, who  _ wanted  _ her. It was a warm feeling. It was all one, big, good dream. Frisk never wanted it to end. She was too afraid to wake up. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Only two more chapters left of Part Two! Also Frisk trying really hard to be positive and happy... 🥺
> 
> Up Next: Sans, Papyrus and Frisk all imagine or dread the possibilities of the masquerade... 
> 
> I hope you guys are liking this story! I do accept fanart, as long as it's tagged WDYW so I can find it. Love you guys!


	39. Expectations and a Hardened Heart

**A/N: Hey all! Today is a very special day because not only am I updating this story... But I'm a published author! Yes! I have a book, Reckless Skies, _published and_ you can find it on Amazon. Normally I wouldn't want to support Amazon, but it's the easiest way to support indie authors. (There is no ethical consumption under capitalism) But yeah! If you like my writing, I encourage you to check it out! **

**[Reckless Skies](https://www.amazon.com/Reckless-Skies-Ashton-D-Skidgell/dp/0578705303/ref=mp_s_a_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=Reckless+Skies+Ashton+D+Skidgell&qid=1592411888&sr=8-3) **

**Now without further ado, Chapter 39!**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Expectations and a Hardened Heart

* * *

_ Sans was building furniture. The screw had fallen from the hole again and he grumbled a slew of curses. This was ridiculous. He had to take a break before he lost his mind.  _

_ He made his way through the house. It wasn't his house in Snowden, but it was  _ his _. There were pictures all over the place. Pictures of family, parents, and of children smiling from the frames, but the harder he looked the blurrier the wife's face became. He could see the little girl though. He knew she must take after her mother, even though he didn't really know what her mom may have looked like. _

_ As he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, he could hear them giggling in the backyard. His grin grew soft and he followed the sweet sound of laughter. His backyard.  _ Their  _ backyard.  _

_ The sunlight was hot against his skull, and he welcomed it. The air was fresh. It rained last night. He smiled when he saw the two girls,  _ his _ two girls, working together in the garden. His wife had started a garden.  _

_ "How's the chest of drawers coming along?" Asked his faceless wife. He shrugged and leaned against the tree as he gazed down at his family.  _

_ "It's coming. I wanted to come out here and gaze upon my beautiful wife and my beautiful daughter though. Is that a crime?" He chuckled as his wife groaned playfully. His daughter jumped up, a big smile on her face.  _

_ "Yes and I'm the police!" She squealed cheerfully. Sans gasped as she raced after him.  _

_ "Oh shit!" _

_ "Sans!" scolded his wife. _

_ He laughed as his daughter wrapped her arms around him in an attempt to tackle him. He dramatically fell to the ground and wailed for mercy as she punched him lightly on the shoulder.  _

_ "Take that daddy!" _

_ His wife stood up and jogged to them. He knew she was smiling. He pulled her down to his level and she gasped as she fell on top of him.  _

_ "Well look at this precarious situation we've found ourselves i—" she kissed him. Their daughter squealed and groaned in playful disgust. _

_ Sans wrapped his arms around his wife, but as he opened his eyes, he found nothing but smoke and darkness.  _ What?  _ He thought in confusion. He looked around. Where were they? He felt a panic spike in his soul and he hoisted himself onto his feet and teleported into the house.  _

_ It was completely dark, and the TV showed nothing but static. Something was very wrong.  _

_ "Sans?" _

_ Sans jumped at the sound of his name. That wasn't his wife… but it was all too familiar. Dread filled his soul and he followed the voice into the study. A woman was sitting there.  _

_ "What are you doing?" She asked. It was… Lydian. He glanced over his shoulder.  _

_ "Breaking a promise to keep a promise," he whispered. Lydian slowly turned to look at him. He flinched. She looked the way she had when her head had tumbled to the floor all those years ago. The calcium tumor on her neck had grown. It was disturbing.  _

_ "To who?" Sans considered her, his dread creeping throughout his body. His bones rattled with fear.  _

_ "To you… to Papyrus," he murmured. Lydian narrowed her eyes. He watched with horror as her body slowly cracked and twisted before him until she had taken the form of her dragon counterpart.  _

_ "You're just like your father… so needlessly tortured. So selfish for the things you want but can't have. So blind to what's right in front of you," the beast snarled as it creeped closer to him. Sans stumbled back.  _

_ "I don't have a choice!"  _

_ The dragon snarled and for the first time in his life he was on the receiving end of that blinding light spilling out from those gaping, skeletal jaws.  _

__

⁂

  
  


Sans blinked awake and groaned. What the fuck kind of dream had that been?  _ It had been so real…  _ He searched the room and rubbed his face to make sure he was really awake. It was then he realized hot tears had streamed down his eyes.  _ Was I crying? What the fuck?  _ He wiped his face with a machismo pride. 

He looked over at his alarm clock and read the blinking red numbers. Six o'clock in the morning. He had actually slept. He didn't know if he wanted to sleep more or just stay awake and muscle through the grogginess fogging his mind. 

_ Shit today's the thirty-first.  _ The realization hit him like a brick. Part of him had been hoping that today would never come. Today was the day they'd have to actually do it. He didn't know if he could. He hated the fact that Frisk had become his center of gravity. He hated himself even more knowing he'd have to hurt her. What kind of monster betrayed the one diamond in a life filled with coal?  _ A monster who had a selfish brother they promised they'd do anything for. A monster who promised his mom that'd he'd look after his selfish brother, because that selfish brother is all he has left in this fucking world. All he has left of his mom or even his dad. That kind of monster.  _

He grit his teeth. He'd really have to do this. Even after sleeping with her, and holding her in his arms, even after confiding in her… he would make good on his promise to his brother. She had said so herself. Papyrus was the most important person to him in the world. Papyrus needed him. Papyrus had a plan. Papyrus could save them, maybe all of them. Sans would make sure of it. There was no way he was going to turn Frisk in and then not get results. 

He'd never forgive himself, but that was just one more reason to loathe himself, and he had a lot of other reasons too. Why not throw it onto the pile?

His thoughts turned back to that strange dream. He had a wife… and he knew who she was now that he thought about it.  _ My mind is really betraying me isn't it? Hey, stupid, stay focused.  _ Oh boy was Frisk the ultimate distraction. She made him into an idiot. 

He couldn't get her out of his head. It was honestly concerning. 

He lay back down with a sigh. He glanced around at his room, at the piles of dirty dishes and clothes.  _ You disgusting piece of shit.  _ This was the culmination of months and months of self loathing and exhaustion.  _ Maybe if I cleaned this pig-sty, it would take my mind off of this  _ mess _.  _

He smirked a little at the bad play on words. That little bit of wit never failed to lift his spirits, even if only a little bit. With a sigh, he picked himself up and turned on his light. He'd go crazy if he just laid there for the rest of the night wallowing over his emotional dilemma. 

  
  


⁂

"Sans! I know you're still in there sleeping, but it's high time you woke up and started getting ready!" Hollered Papyrus. Sans growled under his breath as he dusted his chest of drawers. He had taken two trips down the stairs to put his dirty clothes in the laundry room and dishes in the kitchen. He had even found his old bass guitar and this asshole had the nerve to march onto his turf and nag him?  _ This fucking asshole. Takes everything away from me and then comes for my character.  _

"Fuck off, I'm cleaning my room," he barked. Papyrus stuttered in shock. 

"Are you being serious?" Much to Sans's dismay, Papyrus barged in to see for himself. 

"Oh my God… is that your bass?" He asked as he pointed to the case lying on his unmade bed. Sans growled under his breath and sprayed his brother with the cleaner. 

"Out—"

"—That was completely unnecessary! But… I'm glad you're actually doing this. I certainly hope you've found your suit," he said.  _ The attitude from this one.  _ Sans rolled his eyes. Sometimes Papyrus made him revert back to his adolescence. 

"It's in my closet, asswipe, now get out, can't you see I'm busy?" He growled. Papyrus scowled at his older brother and stomped downstairs. Sans scoffed and turned back to his work. He just needed to vacuum the carpet and make his bed. The worst part about the ordeal, cleaning out the underneath of his bed, had already passed. It had done the trick. Finding all his old shit had definitely gotten his mind off the ache in his soul. He had been playing music from his radio and overall, despite the tedious affair, he found some sort of solace in it. 

"You know what? My life might be falling apart at the seams but at least my clothes are folded," he grumbled, a small, wry chuckle escaping him. He didn't want to talk to Papyrus right now. Papyrus, at that moment, was the one getting in the way of his happiness. Even though he'd do anything for the asshole, damn it really did drain his soul. 

He glanced at his bed and sighed as he went to strip the sheets. 

As Sans walked down the stairs, bundle of sheets and pillow cases in his arms, he kept an eye out for Frisk. Even though he knew seeing her would drop him into a spiral of depression and self hatred, he craved her presence. 

Sans tossed the sheets in the laundry room and looked around for the vacuum. Where did they keep it again? 

"Sans… can I have your opinion on something?" He grit his teeth at the sweet melody of Frisk's voice. He hated how much he loved that voice. 

"Sure thing, kid," he murmured. She smiled.  _ God don't do that, I don't deserve that.  _ She led him upstairs and he sighed as he followed after her. 

"Ok, just wait out here. I've been trying to find an undershirt for this dress because it's way too low cut and I don't want anyone to be put off by my skin. Might be a bit too human for them." Why was she telling him this?  _ She wants me to think about her cleavage. Don't do that to me.  _

He glanced down at her chest before quickly looking back up at her face. 

"Wouldn't want them to see anything," he said with a shrug. She smirked and closed the door. Well now she was definitely toying with him. He leaned against the wall as his mind was filled with memories of that night. Hazy memories, but memories nonetheless. He wasn't  _ black out  _ drunk after all. 

God he wanted her all to himself. He cursed Papyrus for his vile scheme. Papyrus wanted his superiority however and nothing was going to stand in the way of that. 

Well, that wasn't the only reason. He had also wanted to be able to put a stop to the King's tyranny. Papyrus always had good intentions, even if his methods were sprinkled with selfish motives. Who was more selfish though? Papyrus for wanting to be a leader and save the people of the Underground from Asgore… or Sans for not wanting to kill the woman of his dreams?  _ Literally.  _ Sans turned his eyes down in shame. 

The door swung open and she came out. Sans laid eyes on her and clenched his jaw. Of course she was gorgeous.  _ Of course _ , because nothing could be easy. Hiding her skin was a sheer, black shirt, who's collar was at her neck. It was still very pretty, but the dress would definitely look better without it.  _ Not because of her cleavage though, definitely not. _ He didn't need her to look  _ better _ .  _ Stop thinking with your dick.  _ That thought was almost in Papyrus's voice. 

"Well I mean without the undershirt everyone would be turning  _ rosy  _ with the sight of your human cleavage so, it's kind of a necessity. Best option," he said. She smiled at him. He could feel his soul melt. Everytime she flashed that charming smile at him, he wanted to give her the world. 

"Yep, it's the best I got. Alright thank you—"

"—Wait…" Sans paused for a moment and she shot him a curious glance. He sucked in through his teeth and chuckled wryly. 

"Do you uh, know where the vacuum is?" He asked. She smirked and told him where she kept it. He nodded slowly and went to go fetch it. He had to get over himself. Torturing himself was going to kill him. He'd have to do what he'd been so good at doing before all of this. Forget about her. Harden his soul. He knew he could do it. Despite how much he would despise himself, he would do it. Papyrus would get what he wanted. 

  
  


⁂

Frisk smiled to herself as she stripped from the dress and got a robe from her closet. She was going to take a long bath. She'd had such a stressful week, she might as well give herself a small treat before the masquerade. She was overwhelmingly excited. 

At that moment, Flowey was working on making her horns for her that she could wear without him being there. She smiled at him and went to the bathroom. 

The loud sound of the vacuum emanated from Sans's room and she smiled softly. It was so awesome that he was finally cleaning his room. She knew he wasn't  _ just _ lazy, she had gone through periods like that. The fact he was picking himself up had to be a good thing. They were all moving in the right direction. 

She started her bath water and went to brush her teeth while she waited. She had actually slept in today, thank God. She was starting to grow exhausted of waking up early. 

She slipped into the bathtub and sighed with delight. Nice and scalding, just the way she liked it. 

Frisk sunk lower into the bubbly water and smiled blissfully.  _ Tonight is going to be magical. Who knows, maybe Sans and I could spend some time with each other.  _ She giggled to herself. She was far too romantic for her own good. Even after everything and all of her experiences, she still wanted love so badly. 

Maybe it was because of that. She knew what love was supposed to be like. Or at least, she knew what she wanted it to be like. She knew that what she and Damian had was nothing like what she wanted. 

She massaged the shampoo into her hair and bit her lip as she imagined all the possibilities of tonight. She held out for the hope that maybe Sans would overcome his emotional barrier. Maybe they could sneak away from the crowds and explore each other. Or even just talk. She just wanted to be around him. 

Frisk submerged under water and ran her hand through her hair to rinse out the shampoo. Once satisfied, she rose and took in a breath of air. 

She was a bit saddened by Flowey's absence, but it was probably for the best. He didn't want to be around the things that reminded him of his old life, and she wanted to be alone with Sans.

Of course, she reminded herself there were other benefits to the masquerade besides the romance. She needed to size up the nobles. Who was standing in the Angelicans' way? How could she help the rebels' cause? 

It was one last night of fun before she got serious and began her mission. She would fight with all of her might to somehow liberate the monsters from Asgore's clutches. To liberate Sans and Papyrus from their past, from the fear that ruled the residents of Snowden, the sorrow that filled Charlotte and Bonnie. She'd find a way. She was determined to. 

  
  


⁂

" _ Ahem,  _ I would like to give a toast to our General Undyne and another successful Purge. And by extension, the glorious King Dreemur. To powerful leadership and  _ open minds _ ," Papyrus recited into the mirror as he tried on ascots. He stepped back and held up his arms. 

"And then Sans brings her forth, the audience is shocked, and Asgore gives me that knowing,  _ evil  _ smirk. Undyne won't even know what hit her… as long as Sans goes through with the plan… everything should fall into place," he said as he bowed to his reflection.

He frowned at himself in the mirror. He would do this. He had to. If only to prove he was the smartest, and the bravest and the most cunning. He would never be second best again. Not to Undyne, not to Sans… 

He tied his ascot and his eyes darkened as he tried not to imagine the screams on her lips, or the utter look of betrayal in her eyes. 

_ "I just wanted to thank you. As crazy as it sounds, and it does sound crazy… But, living with you has been the first time I've felt like I've mattered." _

"Don't think about it. It would be easier if you didn't think about it. It'll be like ripping off a band-aid," he tried to tell himself. A deep part in himself felt a biting guilt eating away at his soul.

He glared at himself in the mirror. He had to do this. No amount of heartfelt conversation and genuine compliments would suade him from his course. His mind was made up and there would be no changing it. Not when Asgore expected results from him. Not when he wanted something for his mind to be open to. Papyrus grit his teeth and ripped the ascot off of his neck. Who had he become? 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: a bit of a shorter chapter, but next chapter will be worth it. 
> 
> Up Next: something that's been built up since the start of Part 2... The Masquerade.


	40. Masks, Revelations and Broken Hearts

Chapter Forty: Masks, Revelations and Broken Hearts

* * *

The masquerade was bustling with party goers. The Palace for the first time that year actually looked alive. Light spilled from the windows, people were laughing. It was the perfect way to unwind from that awful Spring. 

Frisk glanced over at Sans. She had never seen him in a suit, but it was surprisingly handsome. A red and gold scarf hung from his neck. He looked somehow older…Or maybe it was just the air of  _ having-my-shit-together _ that suits often gave men. 

As they walked up the stairs, she noticed a large crowd had gathered in the courtyard garden. She pointed with curiosity. Sans and Papyrus glanced up and seemed to groan simultaneously. As the crowd parted, she thought she saw another human, but…  _ no,  _ it was a robot. It was _ Mettaton _ . 

Gone was the rectangular box of a body he once had, now he sported an almost perfect, humanesque body. Except he had two extra arms and two extra eyes. He hadn't worn a mask, which seemed to defeat the purpose of a  _ masquerade.  _

Papyrus scowled when Mettaton made his way to them. Frisk inwardly groaned. Only she really had the advantage of a full face mask. Mettaton, however, ignored Sans and Papyrus's fanged scowls. Celebrity status really made people think they were invincible didn't it? 

"Mettaton…I see you have your new body you've been rambling on and on about. I was starting to believe you were bluffing," grumbled Papyrus. Mettaton grinned and bowed a sweeping bow so great it was like he was making fun of the Lieutenant. 

"You shall call me, Mettaton Ex, dahling," he crooned. Sans grunted and looked around for some sort of escape. He leaned over to Frisk, and she smirked when she noticed his usual shit-eating grin. 

"How can we Mettaton  _ Ex- _ it from this conversation?" He whispered. She giggled and pushed him away. Mettaton shot them a curious glance. His eyes fell upon Frisk and he grinned. 

"Well hello, hello,  _ hello _ , dahling. If it isn't the Moxie Valentine in the  _ flesh.  _ Dahling you have been in my dreams," he said. Sans growled under his breath. Frisk squirmed at the unwanted attention. 

"Is that so?" Asked Papyrus. Mettaton nodded and grabbed Frisk's gloved hand. Much to her dismay, he gave it a kiss. 

Sans growled and reached over as a waitress brought over a wine tray. Without skipping a beat, he tossed the crimson liquor onto Mettaton's pristine golden military suit. Mettaton gasped dramatically and stumbled back. 

"How dare you, this is a Spider Silk  _ exclusive, _ you  _ animal!"  _ Cameras flashed as the scandal of the century unfolded. Frisk bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Papyrus, however, did no such thing.

He threw his head back and cackled his usual, villainous laugh. Sans shrugged nonchalantly, but he couldn't stop the dark chuckles from escaping him. 

"My deepest condolences for your loss. It's just, I had to sneeze because I'm allergic to the horse you rode in on," he spat. Mettaton glowered at Sans, he smoothed his black hair, which had fallen out of place and he shot Sans a hateful smile. 

"He's got jokes, this one," murmured Mettaton at his posse. Papyrus, Sans and Frisk watched them slink away as Mettaton fanned himself like he had just suffered the most traumatic event of his life. 

"Well that was fun… let us continue," said Papyrus as he straightened his military jacket. Frisk smiled and fell into step beside Sans. 

"You're funny when you're jealous," she whispered. Sans glanced down at her and ran his tongue over his teeth. She shivered at the move. 

"Who said I was jealous?" He asked quietly as they weaved through a sea of big, poofy dresses and Venetian masks. 

"Um… the wine on Mettaton's  _ exclusive  _ suit," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Sans hummed at the idea and gazed curiously at her. He glanced away and shrugged.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," he said with a small, smug, smirk. She gazed at him. He looked far away. Just like he had when he was avoiding her. He had that distant look, he was deep in his thoughts, and his grin was a skull's grimace.  _ We are in the King's castle. We all know how horrible Asgore is. Maybe this is just another hurdle for them.  _ She didn't know why she was giving them so much trust, why she wanted to.  _ Yeah you do. It's because you want to belong somewhere, and you want to matter to someone.  _ Did she matter to Sans? 

She glanced at Papyrus. He had the same look as his brother. Deep in thought. Distant. Something felt off. He caught her looking and he gave her a fanged smile. 

"Isn't it grand?" He asked quietly. She smiled even though he couldn't see and nodded enthusiastically. 

"It's magical." Sans glanced at her, a darkness passing over his eyes. 

"Yeah…" he murmured. 

"Moxie?" That voice was familiar but she couldn't remember why. She glanced up to see two monsters. One tall, the other short. She glanced at the light purple fur that covered the first one and she immediately recognized her. 

"Kathy! Brittany! What a pleasant surprise!" She called. Kathy pulled up her Gnaga mask, a Venetian cat mask. Her bright green eyes glittered at the sight of her. 

"I would recognize that mask like, anywhere!" Frisk's eyes widened as she drew her into a comfortable hug. Sans and Papyrus shot each other a curious look. 

"You look totally gorgeous!" Frisk beamed at the compliments. She had a soft spot for female companionship. She wished she had stayed in touch with them, rather than let their meeting turn into a one time thing. Maybe that could change after tonight. 

"Thanks, so do you two," she said as she gestured at their dresses. Their clothes weren't of the most expensive brand, and it looked like it had been worn several times, but she didn't judge them one second. She could only imagine what working for Mettaton was like. They smiled gratefully. 

"Well we, like, have to get back to work," said Brittany with a small frown. Frisk nodded and waved them off. 

"Good luck with that," she called as the brothers continued to lead her through the throngs of monsters. The hall spilled out into a giant, golden room. A large band of swingers and jazz players were gathered in the center. A siren swayed as she sang sweet music to the masses. Her voice was truly captivating, and reminded her of the old singers of the sixties and fifties like Doris Day, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald. 

Frisk's eyes roamed the room as she searched for the King. She felt vulnerable without Flowey by her side. She caught him in the crowd and her breath stilled. He was enormous and foreboding. 

"Papyrus." Frisk recognized that voice from the Purge. She turned to see General Leviathan behind Papyrus. He glanced over his shoulder and his grimace melded into a wicked grin. 

"Undyne…" They held each other in a challenging glare that made Frisk tense with anxiety. She glanced at Sans. His eyes had gone black and she was reminded of the run in they'd had. 

"I see you brought your brother," she spat. Sans scoffed, shook his head and meandered towards a servant with a plate of hors d'oeuvres, mumbling as he went. Frisk swallowed and shrunk away to follow him. 

"God this thing couldn't go by fast enough," he muttered to himself as he picked through the cheese and crackers. Frisk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and his breath stilled. They shared a meaningful look, and he could see the smile in her eyes. 

"Well maybe you'd enjoy yourself more if you danced with me..?" She let the offer hang in the air and bit her lip as he considered her. 

"I don't know… not much of a dancer," he murmured. She shrugged her shoulders coyly, a sparkle in her eyes as she gazed at him. What would he say if she suggested they disappear somewhere, just the two of them? Would he go through with it? She couldn't deny just how much she longed for his touch. 

"I'm a good enough dancer for the both of us…" she pulled him out onto the dance floor and joined the crowds of swaying monsters. He couldn't argue with that. He glanced across at his brother. Undyne had left him and Papyrus was watching out for them. Frisk glanced over the crowds of monsters pressing against them, her eyes landing on the king once more. His presence seemed to be a shadowy blot on the lively room. 

"Has anyone ever tried to challenge the king?" She asked in a hushed whisper. Sans glowered at King Dreemur. 

"Of course they have. He's got the powers of hell on his side. The old man's a lot more vicious than he looks. Undyne tried to fight him once. He ripped her eye out. He's got the high council too. They're strange and… they have ways of controlling people. The Angelicans are martyrs, not rebels." Frisk glanced at him with a hint of annoyance at his disregard for the rebel group. Maybe they would actually succeed if they had someone like him or Papyrus on their side. 

"Papyrus has a plan. We both have a plan, and we've been working on it for years. We're closer than ever to completing it," he said as he spun her. She considered his words. 

"What's your plan?" She wrapped her arms around his neck and the two swayed. Sans gazed down, a sorrowful look on his face. A look of regret. 

"Rise in ranks, get closer to him, gain access to the souls, like Undyne has… and then finish him off," he murmured into her ear. A shiver shot down her spine as the vibrations of his rough voice tickled her neck. She rested her head on his chest. The two stayed like that for what felt like ages. Sans would've given anything to stay that way. He glanced up at Papyrus as he stalked the hall. 

His breath stilled as Papyrus picked up a glass of champagne.  _ Not now.  _ He looked down at Frisk. He braced himself for the wave of shock, hatred and betrayal she would feel. Why did Papyrus have to be so melodramatic about everything? Why couldn't they have done this quietly? Dread filled his soul and he let out a sigh. 

"Sans…" he tightened his grip on her. He didn't want her to say anything else. He didn't know if he would be able to go through with this if she said anything else to him tonight. 

"I like this," she murmured as she ran a gentle hand along his chest. He was burning at her touch. His eyes were trained on his brother, but his mind was focused on her. 

"Sans do you think we could—" the hall was filled with a soft ring as Papyrus tapped his glass to get everyone's attention. Sans could feel his soul rip apart. It was a miracle he hadn't turned to dust. His arms constricted around her as he readied himself for what he'd have to do.  _ She'll hate you… she'll scream… she'll try to fight. Only for a little bit… And then…Shit, then she'll be dead.  _

"Everybody! Everybody! Pipe down, I would like to make a toast!"  _ Open minds. The cue is open minds… get it over with, asshole.  _ The crowd hushed and the King rose, a sparkle in his amber eyes as he was filled with anticipation. Papyrus had, after all, promised something for his mind to be open to. 

"Here's to another successful Purge… and…"  _ Say it. Get it over with before I change my mind.  _

Frisk gasped for air. Sans was practically crushing her with his arms, she could hardly breath.  _ What is going on?  _ Had she forgotten just how strong he was? She whimpered against his chest. She clenched her teeth as his hand ran along her jaw. They seemed frozen like that. 

"Here's to Undyne… a leader we… should all aspire to be… and here's to the king!"  _ Stop stalling you fucker…  _ Papyrus's eyes widened and he found Sans in the crowd, and by extension, Frisk. He looked absolutely mortified. What was he doing? 

"...May both your leaderships last!" He didn't say it… that was the cue and he didn't say it. Sans felt like he had just been slapped in the face. He let Frisk go, a look of utter shock all over his mug. She stumbled away and gulped down air. 

A low, tumbling growl fell from Sans's mouth and he shoved past her. She watched with confusion as he shouldered through the crowd, his eyes black with fury. He pulled Papyrus away as the crowd swooned their faux agreements and pretended to be pleased. Where were they going? She started forward to follow them. 

"Ms. Valentine… I couldn't help but notice you in the crowd," she froze as the deep, rumbling voice drifted towards her. She turned to see Asgore Dreemur right behind her.  _ When had he..?  _

"Your majesty…" she breathed. Half his face was obscured by a black mask, but she could see the mysterious smirk on his lips. Dread welled in her stomach. 

"It is customary for my subjects to bow to me when I address them," he said knowingly. She nodded slowly and sunk to the floor in a hesitant bow. She felt sick. Everything about tonight felt wrong. 

"You may rise." She did as told. She was terrified. What if he was going to confront her about her show of rebellion during the Purge? He didn't look like someone who forgot. He didn't look like someone who  _ forgave.  _

"Care to dance?" He asked as he held a hand out to her. Her breath hitched and she stifled the whimper from leaving her lips. She glanced over her shoulder for Sans or Papyrus, but they were gone. Without waiting for her response, he pulled her into a waltz. 

"I have reason to believe the Gasters are hiding something from me…Would you have any idea about that?" He asked as he twirled her. She grit her teeth. What was she supposed to do? She felt so powerless. As they came back together, his amber eye glittered with something unknown. 

"Or maybe, just maybe, they're hiding something from you." What did he mean? Dread crept through her body. She wanted away from him. She was alone. She was  _ all  _ alone. She didn't even have Flowey. And she was up against the King of demons. She thought she could be brave. She thought she was strong. And then he had loomed over her and put seeds of doubt into her head. Were the brothers hiding something from her? Did the King know what she was? She remembered how easily Charlotte had discovered her.  _ Oh God, I have to get out of here.  _

"You and your skeletons would do well to remember that this is  _ my  _ kingdom _.  _ And if you challenge me in my kingdom, or make promises you can't keep, you will suffer. I'll make sure of it. Keep this in mind  _ Moxie _ , I like to play with my food." And like that, he was gone. Frisk gasped and looked about frantically. Some monsters spared her curious glances. She felt exposed out here in the open with no one but the king's dreadful words haunting her mind. She had to find the brothers and get out of here.

She searched for a quiet exit she could leave from without drawing attention to herself. Where were the brothers? She was shaken to the core. Maybe she should have taken Flowey's example and stayed home. The night had strayed south much too quickly.  _ Where are Sans and Papyrus!?  _

Frisk rounded a quiet corner and heard their voices drifting towards her. She sighed in relief and ventured forward to rejoin them. She froze when she heard their argument. 

"You fucking asshole. Have you any idea what kind of shit I've been putting myself through trying to come to terms with your fuckin plan? Fuck you! I was fully prepared to rip that mask off her fuckin face for  _ you,  _ you _ fucker! _ And you couldn't even go through with it? Asshole!" Frisk's eyes widened.  _ What?  _

"Now you listen—" Papyrus cut himself off when he caught Frisk from the corner of his eye. Her lip trembled. 

_ "Or maybe, just maybe, they're hiding something from you."  _ No… it couldn't be. 

"What?" Her voice cracked and Sans's eyes widened. He looked absolutely mortified. 

"Frisk…" he murmured as he started forward. She jerked away out of reflex. Papyrus seethed. What had they done? 

"You… you  _ what?"  _ Frisk didn't want to believe her ears, but the more she thought about what Sans had just said, the more everything started to make sense. She was a human. Her soul was an asset. The brothers hadn't forgotten that, but somehow, she had. She had let them fool her, she had wanted too much, she had forgotten her place in the world. 

"No, Frisk you… you don't understand," Sans said in a desperate attempt to pick up the pieces he had fumbled and shattered. She shook her head as he tried to reach for her.

"I know what I heard…" she whimpered as she backed away from him. Her eyes welled with shocked tears. He had been about to betray her. Her heart dropped to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. 

"Frisk it's not like that," he said.  _ Oh God, what have I done, WHAT HAVE I DONE!?  _ She choked on her own shocked sob. 

"Then what is it like?" He tried to reach for her, he didn't know what else to do. She was slipping through his fingers and it was all his fault. He had been so angry, so enraged at his brother for putting him through emotional torture. 

"Wait—" she pushed him away. 

"—Get  _ away  _ from me!" Sans tried to stop her, but she was surprisingly fast, and she was making a break for it. Papyrus shoved past him as he went to catch up with her and talk her down from her hysteria. 

"Now look what you've gone and done, you bumblefuck," he spat venomously.  _ Oh this fucker thinks he has room to talk!  _

"ME!?  _ Fuck you!  _ Frisk!" He called as red smoke surrounded him. He pinpointed where she was headed and he arrived right in front of her. She slammed against him and she wrestled away from his hands. 

"No! You won't do this to me! You were going to turn me  _ in?"  _ Her voice dropped to a whisper, even though the stairwell they were in was completely empty. He shook his head frantically. How could he possibly fix this? 

"No—well yes—but we didn't—" 

"—but you  _ were _ .  _ YOU  _ were. Maybe Papyrus didn't go through with it, but  _ you  _ were. And I  _ trusted you.  _ I can't believe I trusted you. I'm an idiot!" She cried. Sans's soul was being ripped to shreds by her words. The worst part was, she was right. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. 

"Frisk, listen, I can explain everything." He could, but even if he did, it would do little to make up for it. He was  _ vile _ . 

"I don't want you too, I have heard enough… How long have you been planning this? Oh my God…  _ this  _ is why you avoided me and rejected and turned me away, isn't it? Oh my God… we had  _ sex  _ and you knew you were going to do this!" Sans shook his head. Having his torturous thoughts shouted back at him was a punch to the gut. 

"No, no, no, listen, I know it's bad, and I'm an idiot. I haven't gone a day without hating myself for this, but I promised Papyrus—"

"—Right cause he's all you have left… well you two can have each other! I understand it all now. Once again I have been labeled an  _ asset."  _ Sans shook his head. He didn't know what else to do. 

"You're not, that's  _ not true. _ I… I'm so sorry." The realization that he and Papyrus were truly no better than her ex husband was a slap to the face. He had sworn he wouldn't be like that asshole, but here he was. 

"Fuck you. I don't ever want to see you again! I… I honestly believed I was falling in love with you."  _ Oh God…  _ He had really fucked up. 

Frisk could barely breathe, barely  _ think, _ but she knew she had to get away from him. She shoved him aside and raced down the stairs. 

"Frisk… no, wait—where are you gonna go?" He called as he raced after her. He couldn't just let her go. She was a human, she'd be killed in an instant. It's not like they were in Snowden and surrounded by her friends. This was the Capitol. He didn't know what he would do if she got ripped to shreds because of  _ him.  _

"Far away from you! I would rather  _ die  _ than be around  _ you  _ or your brother!" She screamed. Tears were streaming down her eyes. She had stupidly let herself drop her guard. She had honestly fallen for him, she thought he had too. He had certainly acted like it…. But… no, all the signs had been there. She had just not wanted to see them. 

"No! Don't do this! Just let me explain," Her eyes widened as that ice cold sensation filled her. Her soul was glowing blue. He had resorted to his magic to keep her from running. He couldn't do this to her! She could never trust them again! She didn't know where she would go, but she would rather fend for herself than spend another second with the  _ Gasters.  _

"...Let me go…" she growled as her soul fought with all its might against his hold on her. His eyes widened in shock as red leaked through the blue of his powers. 

"LET GO OF ME!" She screamed. Sans stumbled back as a red light flashed and filled the entire room. His magic seemed to shatter and before he could regain his wits, she was gone. He choked on the hot air around him. Papyrus sprinted past him. 

"Sans! What are you doing!? Get up, she's getting away, we can't just let her go, she'll die out there!" He knew that. 

"...Frisk…God… shit,  _ SHIT!" _

  
  
  


⁂

Frisk escaped from the palace with hardly any obstacles. Most of the guests had moved inside and the only stragglers were lonely lovers groping each other in the shadows. They didn't notice as the girl sprinted through the garden, her soul glowing red with determination. 

She couldn't breathe. Her entire body was burning with shock and anger. 

She staggered down the road leading back to the city. She needed to find a way out. She didn't know where she would go. She couldn't go back to Snowden. The brothers would find her, and the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere  _ near  _ those backstabbing  _ demons _ . 

Frisk wailed in her pain and doubled over as sobs racked her body. She had barely even comprehended the fact that she had resisted a  _ reaper’s _ magic. 

Her eyes frantically roamed the streets of the Capitol. She didn’t want to be here. All she could think of now was the time she and Sans had shared in these streets, the hidden smiles and flirtatious looks. She didn’t want to think of him. Every single time she thought of him, her soul tightened and her body racked with sobs. She had given him everything, she had  _ cared _ about him. 

As monsters walked through the streets, they shot her cautious looks filled with a single question. She paid no attention to the way some monsters creeped behind her to get a better look at the way her soul was glowing. No monster’s soul glowed _ red.  _

She choked on her sobs and hid in an alleyway. She had no idea where she was. She knew she was in the Capitol, but it had just occurred to her that the Capitol was a very large city. 

Three demons were standing outside the back of a building and sharing a blunt when they noticed her staggering through the alley. 

"Hey look at her… her soul's glowin' red…" Frisk grit her teeth. She was alone. She was truly alone. What was she going to do? What about Flowey? She clenched her fists and glanced at the demons as they stalked after her.  _ Shit _ . 

"Is that… she's a  _ human."  _ Growled the larger of the demons. At the words, the danger she was in hit her like a slap to the face and she sprinted down the alley to get away from them. It only spurred them on of course, but what other option did she have? 

"KILL HER!" Demanded one of the men as they chased her down. She cried out as they snatched her off the ground. 

"No! Get away from me!" She screamed as she kicked and thrashed against them. She was not going to go like this! She was going to go on her own terms! She wasn’t going to be the slave to the whims of a demon trying to gain anything from this broken society. 

"We'll make a pretty penny from this!" Growled another as they dragged her to the ground despite her cries. Frisk scrambled for her fight and she gave the first monster a nasty kick to the face. 

"Get off me!" She spat as she dragged herself back to her feet and threw a punch into the other demon's neck. The third demon grabbed her from behind and she screamed as the one she had socked in the neck ripped her dress. The other held a shard of glass up to her throat. She choked and sobbed as her mask was torn off of her face. 

" _ Get off of me!"  _ She demanded, her soul burning brighter and flashing as a second wind filled her. The monsters were thrown back and she fell to her feet.  _ She found herself back in the streets of Lyon as she ran for her life from Claude. Her soul burning red. Her feet running faster, her breaths coming out hotter as determination fueled her. She was a force to be reckoned with.  _

She sprinted away from them as they regained control of their senses. 

"That bitch is getting away!" She dodged into a tighter crack running just between two buildings and jumped up onto a dumpster. 

"There she goes!" A demon reached for her as she tumbled back to the ground. Only her determination kept her going. She could hear their shouts of confusion as she lost them through the zigzagging maze of buildings. 

"Wait...wait…where'd she go?" 

"You lost a  _ fuckin  _ human!? Moron!" 

When she could no longer hear them, she staggered and leaned against a wall. Her stomach was tight with dread and anxiety. She choked and fell to her knees as she puked. Her arms and legs shook uncontrollably and she sobbed. Her soul faded from view and she stifled a scream. She should've just let them kill her. Maybe then she could stop feeling this agonizing heart break. Her gut twisted and turned, she felt like she was being stabbed over and over again. 

Frisk was exhausted. Her arms crumbled beneath her and she curled up, tears staining her face. 

⁂

Hours passed. She thought she had died there in the filth of the city, in her own vomit, snot and tears. Through the darkness of her subconscious, she could hear the click of heels. A sickeningly sweet perfume filled her nose and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She wasn't alone. 

Her eyes cracked open and fell upon a pair of black stilettos. 

"Oh my… what happened here? You look absolutely dreadful,  _ dearie…"  _

  
  


* * *

  
  


End of Part Two 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We end Part two on a big fat oof.
> 
> Like last time, there will be a hiatus before the next update as I finish writing Part 3. Currently I am writing Chapter 52. 
> 
> See you next update!


	41. New Partnership

**Hey Guys! Welcome back! I know it's been a long hiatus, but WDYW is back and running! Before we get started I wanted to do a small art dump. I'm sure if you follow me on Tumblr (@the_writing_mobster) you've seen a few, but there are some I haven't posted.**

**Art:**

**[Sans and Frisk](https://photos.app.goo.gl/qqYD1b9Lt9GXg3jw9) **

**[NSFW Sans and Frisk](https://photos.app.goo.gl/dD9ggvUmgfXdhbhEA) **

**[A crack comic based off of Chapter 17](https://photos.app.goo.gl/aSpTodyRFVC6DxhR8) **

**[Frisk looking very cute. ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/37AeiAGoNrd8Hg988) **

**Ok that's it for now. I have more art but they're spoilers so I won't be posting them. However, again, I do post some on my Tumblr.**

**If you have fanart you want to create or have created for WDYW, please don't be shy! Fanart is highly encouraged. Now, without further ado— _part three_**

* * *

Part Three: Spider Webs

Chapter Forty-One: New Partnership

* * *

_ The silky threads of a spider's web pulled at her arms and legs as she danced gracefully across the stage. She knew she wasn't safe. She was vulnerable and alone. Her clothes had been stripped from her, and millions of demons were watching her in the crowd with hate-filled and hungry looks.  _

_ Dust covered the ground. She had stopped dancing even though the strings kept pulling at her. She fell to her knees. A blue bone shot through her chest, and her eyes rose to look at the Gaster brothers one last time before they killed her.  _

⁂

_ She awoke in a ditch. She remembered. This was Vienne. When did she make it to Vienne? She squinted as a flashlight shined in her eyes.  _

"Madame? Vous devez venir avec nous."  _ It was a police officer. She swallowed, even though her throat was dry. How long had she been out?  _

"Allez-vous m'emmener en prison?"  _ She asked, her voice hoarse. The officer pulled her up to her feet and walked her to his car.  _

"Nous avons juste besoin de vous poser quelques questions."  _ Frisk nodded slowly as she tried to comprehend what had happened to her.  _

"je n'ai rien fait de mal,"  _ she murmured as the police man started his car.  _

"Je viens de te trouver dans un fossé couvert de sang séché. Nous allons devoir vous poser quelques questions."  _ She couldn't argue with that. She swallowed and looked out the patrol car window. After this… she wanted to leave France for good.  _

"Avez-vous des proches que vous pouvez appeler?"  _ Frisk's mind turned back to darker places. She had her father… but she hadn't talked to him in three years. He wouldn't want to talk to her. She glanced up at the officer and shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. She was definitely going to leave France for good.  _

⁂

  
  


Frisk's eyes fluttered open. Her body ached with a dull pain. Eyes adjusting to the dim light; she took in the heavy, red curtains and luxurious decor surrounding her. She clenched her fists around a thick, black duvet. This wasn't the first time she had awoken in an unfamiliar bed. 

She was not in an alleyway anymore, that was for sure. The events of that horrid night came crashing back into her mind and tears sprung in her eyes. Her lips curled and she fell back against the pillow. She tried to stifle an ugly sob, but it croaked through her defenses. Her body shook and she turned over onto her side. She couldn't think, she couldn't even ask herself where she was. 

The door cracked open and she sniffed as she tried to hide herself. She looked away as the hum of a woman filled her ears. 

"Oh, dearie, I hope I didn't wake you…" Wait… She recognized that voice. Her eyes trailed up to see Muffet standing in the doorway. She was dressed in a flowery kimono, unlike the striking black widow pantsuit she often sported. 

Frisk covered her face in a fruitless attempt to hide her tears. She already assumed Muffet had found out about her humanity the moment she had taken her in.  _ I wasn't exactly careful that night… How long have I been out?  _ Muffet seemed to read the question. 

"You've been in and out of consciousness, I assume from shock, for twenty-four hours. I don't blame you one bit. I can only imagine what you've been through… you're very strong," she said softly as she moved through the room like morning mist over a lake. Frisk was captivated by her. 

Muffet came to the edge of her bed and offered her a tissue. Frisk graciously took it and wiped her face. She shot a wary look at Muffet, her mind spilling with warnings. 

"You're right to be cautious," she said as she got up and went to move the curtains. Frisk squinted as light spilled into the room. 

"But you shouldn't fear anything from me, as long as we're both at an understanding. We can discuss that later. Right now, I'm going to take care of you," she said. Frisk furrowed her brow and hugged her knees to her chest. Her entire body ached.

Her dress was gone and replaced with a silk nightgown. Even her hair was brushed out and taken care of. She looked around and her eyes lighted on her reflection in a vanity mirror. At the sight of her tear stained eyes, a lump grew in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

Muffet was watching her with a mysterious, calculative look. When enough quiet time had passed, she cleared her throat. Frisk glanced up and wiped her eyes. 

"When you're ready, come downstairs and we can discuss terms with each other," she said as she made her way to the door. Frisk shot her a wary look. 

"Terms?" She croaked. Muffet tilted her head, black hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. Her six, onyx, black eyes blinking slowly as she considered her. Frisk shuddered at the look, a sense of dread pooling in her stomach. 

"Breakfast will be ready in five minutes. Would you like some tea?" She asked. Frisk swallowed. Her throat was dry. She glanced up at Muffet with a scared gleam in her eyes. She had no idea what was going to happen to her. She wanted a friend… but she couldn't handle anymore betrayal. She watched as Muffet left her alone. 

Frisk dragged herself out of bed. She wavered on her feet and swallowed the lump growing in her throat. It could be worse… she could be dead in the streets. 

She picked her way through the room and looked out the window. They were still in the Capitol, the black Palace was across the city, looming over the buildings like a warning to her. 

She sniffed and glanced down at the street below her. She was in the third story of a gothic, Victorian town-home. At least she knew where she was.  _ What am I going to do?  _ For the first time in the Underground, she was completely alone. She didn't have Flowey. The one person she knew she could trust and he wasn't with her. It wasn't his fault either. 

She didn't have Doug. She didn't have Charlotte or Bonnie or even  _ Alice.  _ She didn't have the Snowden Library… She didn't have the Brothers. Not that she wanted them. At the reminder of what they had done, she choked and held her hand up to hide her face. There was a heavy weight on her chest and she gasped. 

It wasn't fair.  _ It wasn't fucking fair.  _ Why her? Why was it that out of all the people in the world, it was her who seemed to have gotten the short end of the stick? She just wanted to be happy. She just wanted to stop hurting, but time and time again, it was like the universe was shoving her back down. 

She cleared her throat and glanced at the door. She didn't know if she wanted to go down there. She didn't know what Muffet's terms were, and quite frankly she didn't want to know.  _ I can't stay here. I have to get out of here.  _ No, what she needed to do was think and make a plan. She still had her bank account open, and she found quiet solace in that fact. 

When enough time had passed, Frisk swallowed her disposition and crept out of the room. She was first hit by the smell. It was sickeningly sweet and warm. Like vanilla perfume trying to hide something rotten. She almost turned back, but the soft candles that lit the hall seemed to beckon her with their shadowy flickers and tendrils of smoke. The daylight was blocked by draping, black curtains. That was the second thing she noticed. There was very little light. There seemed to be an air of secrecy around every corner. 

She crept down the stairs and narrowed her eyes as she tried to find her bearings. Something fell between her feet and she frowned. She glanced up and her eyes widened when she saw the  _ beast _ hanging quietly from the ceiling. It was a giant, black, spider. Her breath hitched and she stumbled back, her feet tripping over the stairs. She tumbled to her ass and she stifled a scream of horror.

The ginormous spider slowly turned its head to eye her and she choked with terror. Its eight eyes blinked slowly as it studied her, its disgusting mandibles twitching as it considered her as a possible meal, before turning away and returning to its slumber. She gasped and crawled back to her feet before sprinting down the rest of the spiral staircase. 

Frisk's heart was racing in her chest. Her body was shaking with fear as she made her way down the hall. What the hell was that thing? She was so vulnerable. She was at a loss for what to do. She knew she couldn't go back to Snowden, but she doubted she'd be able to stay here. 

"There you are dearie. Here's your tea," said Muffet as Frisk rounded a corner and entered a small tea room. Breakfast was sitting on a coffee table: muffins, cake, tea and eggs. Frisk stood stock still in the doorway. Muffet had wanted to discuss her terms. As much as she didn't want to think about them, all of the warnings that Papyrus, Doug and Sans had given her filled her mind. 

_ "If the seven deadly sins were personified, she'd be greed." _

_ "They don't call her the Black Widow for no'fin'."  _

_ "Let's just say when she gives favors, she expects favors back."  _

__

"Did you meet my pet? That's Shelob. A little Lord of the Rings reference for you. You needn't worry about her," she said with a fanged smile. Frisk shot Muffet a puzzled look. 

"Lord of the Rings?" She asked. Muffet grinned and gestured for Frisk to sit down. 

"But of course. Now I love Mettaton dearly, he's a good friend of mine, but the poor robot's acting range is so limited compared to that of your Hollywood. I have an entire private collection of human goodies. From fashion magazines to the greatest hits. From great American Novels to the Classic Hollywood movies. All in my personal library, which is open to you for as long as you stay here." Frisk shook her head as she picked at her food. She was starving, but distrust filled her mind. She didn't want to take any chances. 

Muffet noticed the way she eyed her food and she hummed. 

"I know what you're thinking.  _ Why should I trust you?  _ With what you've been through, you shouldn't. A woman's intuition is never to be questioned. I bet you're worried I'll be just like the Gasters and try to turn you in and toy with you the whole time—"

"—How did you know? I mean, about what happened?" She asked. Muffet waved her fingers dismissively at the question. 

"I observe dearie. I'm an  _ observer.  _ I was at the masquerade, and I saw you leave… and then I saw the brothers—"

"—I don't want to hear this. I don't want to know what they did." The lump grew in her throat and more tears threatened to spill. A deeper part of her did want to know. She wanted to know if Sans was just as distraught as she was. She wanted to know that he cared, that he'd try to get her back… but she knew that was just the traitorous side of her that had fallen in love with him in the first place knowing full well just what kind of person he was. He probably didn't care at all. He couldn't. Not when he was willing to kill her. 

Muffet sighed softly as tears spilled from Frisk's eyes and she hid her face. She didn't want Muffet, a woman who was so perfect and confident, to see her absolutely crumble. 

"Of course you don't…I'm not going to pretend with you. Unlike the Gasters, who are shrouded in mystery and riddles… I am completely transparent," she said as she sipped at her tea. Frisk narrowed her eyes as she stirred her own tea. She was searching for powder, or a smell. 

"How do I know you're not just lying about that?" She asked. Muffet smirked and delicately took the tea from Frisk's hands. Frisk watched as Muffet took a sip from her cup, before giving it back to her. 

"Every good relationship has a give and a take. Each party has something they need and something they can give… something they can compromise. That's business, and diplomacy. I'd like to think I am an expert in both. So as long as you're completely honest and transparent with me… I'll have no reason to keep anything from you. How does that sound? The tea is safe by the way," She said with a wink. Frisk clenched her jaw and finally allowed herself to take a drink. It was surprisingly sweet. Everything sounded too good to be true. 

"So what do you want? What are your terms?" Asked Frisk finally. Muffet smirked and leaned against the arm of her chair. 

"Well first let's discuss what  _ your  _ terms are. You need shelter. Somewhere to go. Someone to protect you from those dangerous streets and  _ demons,  _ yes? That  _ is  _ why you stayed with the Gasters for as long as you did, despite better knowledge, correct? Because you're smart and resourceful and I can respect that in a woman.  _ I  _ can give that to you… and I can do you one better, I can protect you from the brothers. Lord knows they'll be after their precious human… and something tells me you want to stay hidden, isn't that right?" It was all true. Frisk nodded slowly. She felt so pathetic and helpless. 

"Yes…" she whispered. Muffet eyed her calculatively and took a small bite of cake. 

"And I'll be compromising my own safety by keeping a human under my roof. So that's what I'm giving…so what can you give me?" She asked. A chill ran up Frisk's spine. She picked through all her knowledge of Underground culture that she had learned during her time here. 

"The brothers… um, used me as a house cleaner. I'm used to that kind of work, but… I'd love to stretch my intellect and maybe I could be a personal assistant to you?" She suggested. She recalled when she had a very similar conversation with Papyrus ages ago… he had settled on housework. She had expected the worst of them. She had expected to be made into an object. That same fear filled her now. Muffet considered her offer. 

"Interesting choice… We'll hold off on that now. For now, I want you to feel welcome. I know you're going through a hard time right now… you need a  _ friend."  _ Frisk frowned and glanced up at Muffet as she stood. 

"I encourage you to become familiar with my home. This may be where you spend the rest of your time down here if our new partnership proves…  _ cooperative."  _ With that, she left Frisk alone. 

Frisk let out a heavy sigh. Once again she found herself stuck between a rock and a hard place. At this point she didn't know which was better. Dying in the streets or being an asset to yet another person's sick agenda.  _ At least you're not with them anymore… just take it one day at a time. As long as you're miles away from those damn skeletons. Anyone but them.  _

She glanced up and stared at the door that Muffet disappeared into. For now she'd play it by ear and try her best to survive the whims of her new  _ business partner.  _ At the end of the day, that was what she was good at. Surviving. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My poor baby girl... Frisk needs a hug. 😭 Also do we trust Muffet! Maybe. Do we have a real choice? Absolutely not. 
> 
> Up Next: Muffet tries to distract Frisk with a day at the Theatre.


	42. A Day at the Theater

Chapter Forty-Two: A Day at the Theater

* * *

Muffet was efficient in everything she did. She started her mornings with a small breakfast as she leafed through her own magazines and look-books; sometimes even human magazines like Vogue for inspiration. She spent about another two hours on the phone with her associates, and opened letters and read emails. It seemed like she was constantly doing something, and it didn't hurt that she had extra arms. Four to be exact. 

Several guests would be brought into her home, and when that happened, Frisk would be hidden away in her room. However, that didn't stop Frisk from spying. She needed to learn as much as possible about this new life she had been thrust into. She learned there were two different types of associates. The quiet ones and the flamboyantly loud ones. The quiet ones were always much more dangerous, but Muffet owned every conversation. 

In her downtime, Muffet liked to sew and bake. It was the one time Frisk saw her acting like a real person rather than a force of nature. It reminded Frisk of the Devil Wears Prada, except this time it was for real, and she was living it.

In truth, Muffet rarely had time for her and mostly left Frisk to her own devices. She didn't know if she preferred the freedom or not. She lost track of time, and every other thing reminded her of her time spent with Sans and his brother. Even the smallest things, like an omelette for breakfast, made her eyes well up and a lump grow in her throat. She didn't really blame Muffet for ignoring her for most of the day. She had become pathetic and Muffet had no time to deal with such trivial nonsense. Frisk was lucky the busy woman had even let her stay in her home. 

Frisk glanced up from her book as Muffet entered her personal library to join her. Frisk was nose deep in Pride and Prejudice, despite how forlorn the fictional relationship made her feel. 

"So are you going to continue moping about my home and soaking my books in your pitiful tears for the rest of your life?" Frisk swallowed nervously and shook her head. When she tried to defend herself, Muffet cut her off and smiled graciously. 

"Atatata… we're going out. It's been over a week, I think it's high time you stopped feeling sorry for yourself and had some _fun,"_ she said with a sparkling smile. Frisk weakly smiled back and nodded hesitantly. She had really become a husk of that fiery person she once was and she needed to lighten up again. She couldn't spend the rest of eternity crying over her unfair circumstances and broken heart. She hated just how much she had let that bastard skeleton into her soul. 

"Ok, you're right," she said. Had it really been a week? It was April already… She wondered for a second what the brothers were doing, but quickly shook that thought away. She couldn't torture herself with thoughts about them. She had to _forget_ about them. 

"I have an outfit for you picked out. It's in your room, along with proper tiefling horns and a new mask." Frisk nodded and jogged upstairs. She subconsciously sped up as she passed Shelob. She could get used to a lot of things, but that fucking _spider_ was not one of them. It was much bigger than a spider should've ever been. A shudder went down her spine and she avoided looking up. 

Frisk walked into her room, her eyes immediately falling upon the clothes folded neatly on her bed. It was a pant suit, not unlike the one Muffet had given her the first time they had met. She changed into the suit and fastened the new mask to her face. It was pitch black, with delicate wings carved on the right side. It didn't hide her lips. She glanced over to find a dark, diamond laced veil connected to her new horns, which were wrapped in black leather. 

Once she was completely ready, she left to join Muffet in the foyer. Muffet looked her up and down and pursed her lips. 

"You're missing something," she said. Frisk felt her heart spike with an ounce of panic. What could she have possibly forgotten? She didn't want to irritate Muffet anymore than she already had. Before she could ask, Muffet pulled out a stick of ruby-red lipstick and a compact mirror before she handed it to her. Frisk hesitated. She hadn't worn makeup in what felt like forever. 

She lifted the thick veil and applied it to her lips. Muffet smiled in satisfaction and took her lipstick back. 

"There you go, dearie. Now come along, we mustn't doddle," she said. For the first time in a week, Frisk stepped outside. She hesitated and glanced around at the city around her. One look from Muffet was enough to get her moving and she jogged the rest of the way to the luxurious carriage. 

"So where are we going?" She asked. Muffet glanced out the window. 

"Mettaton gave me two tickets to his performance tonight. It's mostly business for me, but you should enjoy yourself," she said. Frisk scrunched her nose with distaste. She didn't like Mettaton in the slightest. However… maybe she could see Kathy and Brittany. That would be a treat, and it would do her well to see a familiar face after all of this. 

She was so lucky to be alive. She didn't know what it was, but the universe refused to let her die. Or rather, she refused to let the universe kill her. Of course… she couldn't take all the credit. She glanced up at Muffet and pursed her lips. 

"Muffet… I never did thank you for helping me. Thank you," said Frisk softly. Muffet glanced at Frisk and narrowed her large eyes as she studied the girl before her. 

"You're welcome." Frisk smiled and looked out the carriage window as they rode through the city. Would they be staying in the Capitol or going to the Core? She hoped she wouldn't have to interact directly with Mettaton. She hated the way he treated his employees, and his arrogance was hard to stomach. 

They sat in silence for most of the ride. Frisk drummed her fingers on the window and watched the world go by. The Capitol dwindled away into suburbs, and a few prison yards that she couldn't help but stare at. The carriage descended down a steep, winding road that led into a ravine flowing with magma. Frisk lifted the hair off of her neck as the heat billowed into her face. They passed under an aqueduct that carried the river Styx into the Capitol. It was truly amazing just how innovative the monsters were with the space they had. It was their own little world down in the Underground. 

Frisk glanced up as they passed under a bridge and read the sign hanging from it. _Now entering the Core; Population 50,000._

"Used to be a hundred thousand. Looks like they finally changed the sign," murmured Muffet. A shudder went down Frisk's spine at the reminder of the Purge. Half of a city's population reduced to nothing but dust. It was sick. 

"You know why we purge, don't you?" Asked Muffet as she checked her makeup in a personal mirror. Frisk glanced at Muffet and narrowed her eyes. 

"To free up resources? Keep the population down?" murmured Frisk. That's what the Chinese government did with their one child rule. Killing people in a population was never the right option, but there were always sympathizers. Was Muffet a sympathizer? Muffet eyed her and she smirked. 

"Well that's what everyone tells themselves to make themselves feel better. It's to control people. Fear keeps them loyal and the king prizes loyalty over all. Even money. He couldn’t care less about taxes… and quite honestly… I think he couldn’t care less about the lives of his subjects," she said. Frisk frowned. That definitely made the most sense. The king was terrifying, and she wouldn't put it past him to have that agenda. It wasn't exactly a big secret. 

"Fear can only control people for so long before they fight back. Or at least try to," she said, her eyes glimmering as she thought about the Angelicans. The second she could figure out how to get herself alone, she was going to see if she could find Nick. _No… he's Sans's friend… but he's the only Angelican I know._ Frisk glanced back at Muffet and a chill crawled down her spine when she saw the calculating look on her face. 

"Until their spirit breaks completely. Then they turn to distractions. Entertainment. That's Mettaton's job. That's _my_ job. It's a noble career, if you ask me," she said. Frisk twitched at the words. That was where they disagreed, but she held her tongue. Unlike with Sans, she didn't feel like she had reign to talk about her opinion, or about anything really. _Don't think about him._

" _I read this short story in that book of fairy tales. It was about Death and his love of a living human… do you know it?_ ' Humanity. So determined you were to live, you were blind to the suffering that would come. Now you only wish to join me because I have everything and you have nothing. But unlike you, I keep my promises, however painful it is to me. You will live forever,' _and that was how it ended, did you ever, have you ever read that? Or—"_

_"—Oh that story? Death's Mistress. Yeah I've read it. A shitty ending but, she deserved it."_

_"Why? All she wanted was to take care of her family. I wouldn't want to die if I had all that going for me, and it's not like she was old."_

_"She made a promise. I'm not one to make promises, but I honor the ones I do make…"_

Frisk swallowed the lump in her throat as she replayed the memory in her head. He had told her he honored his promises…he had lied to her. _Don't think about it._ She couldn't stop herself however. Her mind was filled with every good memory of Sans despite the heartache. It was as if her soul was trying to make her suffer. 

_"I made a promise to my brother, Frisk…I told him I'd do anything for him, no questions asked… that I'd do anything to make sure we were never weak again."_

_"You told me you never break a promise."_

_"Sometimes promises contradict each other and it's hard to keep one without breaking the other."_

_"I guess then it comes down to the person you made it to and who you care about more,"_

Had he been trying to warn her? Why hadn't she seen it before? _You didn't want to. You were happy for the first time._ She never wanted to make that mistake again. She wanted to forget. She wanted to completely forget about him, and how happy he had made her for the smallest of moments. She wanted to forget the tug he had on her soul, she wanted to forget the burning sensation of his touch, or the rumble of his voice. 

"You're spiraling into your depressing thoughts again. Don't cry, I don't want that mask to get ruined by your tears," said Muffet nonchalantly as she flipped through a magazine. Frisk sniffed and nodded curtly. _Ugh, Muffet is right._ She blinked back the tears welling in her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Right on time, too, for they arrived at their destination only seconds after she had pulled herself together. 

The driver opened the door for them and the two ladies stepped out. Frisk gawked at the majesty of the theatre. It was absolutely gigantic, and perfectly vintage. It looked like a legit Broadway theatre, if not for all the Mettaton posters.

Muffet led Frisk past the ticket booth and security. Frisk followed her up a private flight of stairs that had been belted off from the public. Frisk ogled at the luxury surrounding her as they took their seats in a balcony overlooking the stage. Muffet handed her a set of dainty binoculars that she had only seen in movies. Now that they were there, she was actually starting to feel excited. 

It had been a long time since she'd been to a fancy theatre like this. When Damian was still being nice to her, he would take her to ballets and plays anytime they could. It was one of her fonder memories of him. 

Muffet leaned over and pointed out a monster across the theatre in his own box seating. Frisk held up the binoculars in order to get a better look as Muffet whispered in her ear. 

"That's Julian. He's one of my highest contributors. I have a meeting with him after the show, which is why we came," she said. Julian was a humanoid fox with expensive taste. His minotaur bodyguard only solidified his high status. 

Frisk hummed thoughtfully. Would Muffet introduce her to her so-called "contributor?" _What does that even mean? Do they donate to her?_ She shot a wary side-glance at Muffet as the lights dimmed and the overture began to play. A hush fell over the audience and Frisk trained her eyes across the theatre. _Julian, huh? What could you possibly do? What could your meeting with Muffet possibly be about?_

The show started and Frisk's attention was drawn to the stage. Her thoughts were elsewhere though as she mindlessly consumed the entertainment. 

Would Frisk be included in these meetings? She doubted it, she was rarely included in anything. _Maybe it could give me time to get my bearings._ She could see if she could find a phone and call Doug or Charlotte. They deserved to know she was ok… but would they go to the Gasters? 

_"Lord knows they'll be after their precious human…"_

Muffet's words echoed in her mind. She wanted to talk to familiar people. She didn't have to tell them where she was. Despite how gossipy Charlotte was, she was surprisingly good at keeping secrets, if her knowledge about her true identity was any proof of that. She couldn't call Doug, as much she adored him, he was too close to Sans. Would Muffet even allow her to get in contact with her friends? _Who cares if Muffet would allow me or not, she's not my boss._ She glanced back at Muffet. 

She wasn't paying attention either. She was busy writing something in her agenda. Frisk strained to see what exactly it was she was writing down, but it was hard with the darkness. She did make out a few words however. _Promotional photo op._

Frisk bit her lip and glanced back at the stage. She assumed Muffet's company had a say in the costuming, considering Mettaton and Muffet's close partnership. She didn't know if she particularly trusted that dynamic. Two rich and powerful people who promoted King Asgore's reign of terror couldn't be a good thing. 

_"You know why we purge, dearie? … to control…"_

The words made her shudder. Part of her admired Muffet. She was the successful woman Frisk always wanted to be. She didn't let the men around her drag her down and force her under the glass ceiling. Another part of her was terrified. In the Underground, success was measured by one thing… staying alive by taking out the competition. _Kill or be killed._

_"He waited for her at her house and attacked her. Next day, Papyrus was Lieutenant."_

_"She's not called the Black Widow for nof'in'."_

As she watched Mettaton leap and bound about the stage with a prop sword, the choir singing about his heroic deeds, she formulated a plan. She was in a position no Angelican was in. The things she could learn about Asgore's preferred crowd could possibly help them in their strife against him. She felt a rejuvenation. Despite the heartbreak, and emotional danger, she was right where she needed to be. If only she knew how to contact an Angelican! 

_"The Capitol's underbelly."_

Her mind suddenly snagged on the memory and she gasped as it slapped her right in the face. There had to be clues there! 

Muffet shot her a curious look and Frisk smiled nervously and pointed at the stage. 

"That's definitely my favorite part," she lied with forced excitement. Muffet chuckled and nodded along. Frisk gave a small sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the stage. She had a plan now, and that was a comforting thought. 

  
  


⁂

Eventually, the play ended. For the most part, Frisk enjoyed the other actors, even though they had barely any stage time. Muffet led her back to the lobby and Frisk watched patiently as she pulled out a pager from her purse. 

She found it so strange that the monsters were trapped in a place with absolutely no cell phones or cars, yet had computers, landlines, pagers and payphones. It was a weirdly timeless place and Frisk found she really liked it. 

Frisk snapped back to attention as Muffet waved to her _highest contributor._ Julian sauntered over to them, his bodyguard trailing behind him. 

"My dear, it's so good to see you again!" Exclaimed Muffet as they kissed each other's cheeks. Muffet waved to them, an indicator that they best hurry. 

They fell into a line behind her, and Frisk was once again struck with awe at Muffet's seamless control over everyone and every situation. She couldn't deny just how impressed she was. They came to a private office room on the second floor, and Frisk was told to wait outside with Julian's bodyguard. _I knew I wouldn't be included._

Frisk spared a wary glance at the giant minotaur. He looked impressively powerful, and was covered in scars. She wondered what he had been through. 

"Hey, I'm Moxie," she said softly. If they were going to sit together, they might as well break the ice. The minotaur glanced down at her, something unknown twinkling in his eyes. 

"I know." Frisk pursed her lips at the abrupt response. That didn't leave for very many conversational topics. Of course he knew who she was, she had been on Mettaton's show, once upon a time. She hummed thoughtfully. _Just let him be, he's doing his job._ With that final thought, she left it alone. 

Frisk stared at the door Muffet and Julian had disappeared into. What were they talking about in there? 

"Oh my God… is that Moxie Valentine?" Frisk turned to see a small crowd of paparazzi. She recognized the woman… was that the woman Papyrus had impaled all those months ago? 

She smiled nervously and cameras flashed. The minotaur gave a disapproving snort, and she silently agreed with his sentiment. She didn't want any public attention. 

"Where are the brothers?" _God, please don't remind me._ She shook her head as cameras flashed. The minotaur huffed a hot puff of air and stood up. 

"Um—"

"—Oh, you have a new mask—"

"—She's showing her lips—"

"—So are your scars on the top half of your face only?" Frisk was overwhelmed with the obnoxious crowd. 

"Do the brothers see you with the mask off or do you keep it on?" 

"I'm not with the brothers anymore!" She snapped as a camera flashed in her face. The minotaur shoved one of the camera men and they all gasped. Frisk held her hand out. 

"That wasn't necessary," she murmured. The woman she had stood up for long ago softened. However, she was still a reporter and finding out the juicy gossip was her job. 

"So you're not with the brothers anymore? Do you care to share what happened?" She asked. Frisk pursed her lips. 

"That's personal," she muttered. Cameras flashed and she squinted at the bright lights. The minotaur shielded her and she was quietly grateful. One of the reporters peeked around his large body. 

"Personal? Does that imply you may have had an intimate relationship with one of them?" Frisk froze at the accusation. At their mere words she was haunted by Sans's touch. She tried to fight away the phantom sensations and she shook her head. 

"N—No, absolutely not—"

"—She hesitated, _write that down."_ Frisk's eyes widened in alarm. 

" _Don't_ write that down!" She gasped. The minotaur gave a low bellow and lowered his horns. 

"The honorable Ms. Muffet is in that room in a very important meeting with my boss. If you squabbling parrots do not vacate the premises, I will be forced to gore you," growled the minotaur. The reporters paled at the threat. The woman glanced curiously at Frisk and at the door Muffet was supposedly in. Frisk clenched her teeth as she scribbled something down. 

"Thank you for your time," she said, before waving to her crew. The other reporters followed her. Frisk sat back down and let out a taut breath. _Well that was huge cluster fuck disaster._ Frisk smiled softly at the thought. She had always liked how powerful English cuss words sounded. 

"Thank you for warding them off, I was starting to freak out," she murmured. The minotaur shrugged nonchalantly and glanced at the door as he tried to uphold his stoicism. She could tell he was rarely ever thanked for his work. 

"My boss can't afford to have the mainstream media around. He's very secretive," he said quietly. Frisk smiled softly. 

"I know what that's like, believe me." The minotaur's ear twitched and he let himself smile softly. 

"Alexander," he murmured, his voice barely audible. She cracked the first, brilliant, genuine smile in a long time. 

"Very fitting," she said with a glimmer in her eyes. He chortled and the stoic, bodyguard facade seemed to crumble. 

"I think so too." He winked at her and she giggled. She was so thankful for the chance to relax. It seemed now more than ever she was surrounded with danger, and there was just something nice about casual conversation. It certainly put her troubled mind at ease, if only for a moment.

⁂

What felt like hours passed, and eventually they were the only people left in the theatre. They talked a lot about their likes and dislikes. He made a point of not discussing the skeletons. It turned out he knew a lot about her predicament, he even knew that she was a human, and her real name. 

It was a bit jarring. Muffet must have worked with Julian a lot and by extension, him as well. She guessed, much like Nick, they also weren't the most law abiding citizens, so her humanity wasn't really something they could exploit. She didn't know how true that was. Something about it didn't sit well with her, even though she liked Alexander. 

She learned he used to be a member of the Royal guard but had been outmatched in a duel for a higher position. Instead of taking the killing blow, he had surrendered and was cast out in shame. Her heart went out to him. Although, she was glad that he didn't let it hinder him. 

She also learned he was supposedly a descendant of the Minotaur slain by Theseus. 

"I inherited his magic. The red string of the labyrinth. If one finds themselves in a labyrinth, be it physical or mental, I can help them find their way, or lead them further in and forever trap them," he said. She smiled as she listened to him. Monster magic was so fascinating. 

"That's so amazing. And only descendants of Asterion—"

"—Yes, only descendants of Asterion have this power. It was gifted to him by the dead gods." Frisk nodded along in wonder. Just as she was about to ask another question, the door swung open.

"Dearie, we're ready to go," crooned Muffet. Frisk frowned in disappointment. She was enjoying her time with Alexander. Julian eyed his bodyguard suspiciously and Frisk wondered if he would get in trouble because he had been interacting with her. She hoped that wouldn't be the case. 

The two parted ways and Frisk followed Muffet back into the carriage. The ride back to Muffet's home was silent as both women mulled over their circumstances. Two opposing sides of the same coin. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Muffet is so sassy, I love her to death. Also, someone give Frisk a tub of ice cream. She's crying over Pride and Prejudice. 
> 
> Up Next: We check in on what the Brothers are up to during all of this. 
> 
> Btw! If you want to interact with these characters, with me, or the story in general, my Tumblr is very active. I know you guys want What If stories, so just go request them in my ask box and I'll write one specifically for you! My Tumblr is The_Writing_Mobster. See ya there!


	43. Tortured Soul

Chapter Forty-Three: Tortured Soul 

* * *

_ March Thirty-first  _

  
  
  


Sans sprinted through the castle and out of the gardens, Papyrus right behind him. They had lost her! She had just disappeared into thin air. He tried to ignore the fact she had resisted his magic. No one had ever done that and it had shaken him to the core. 

He slowed when he couldn't run anymore, not like they were catching up. Sans doubled over his knees as his entire body shook. This could not be happening.  _ This could not be happening.  _

"She's gone!" Gasped Papyrus as he staggered down the road. Sans felt a low growl tumble out of his chest and he shot his brother a poisonous glare. If only looks could kill, then maybe his brother would be dead. He deserved to be dead. He didn't think he'd ever forgive him, the son of a bitch. 

"This is your fault," he barked. He knew that wasn't true. Well, it was. It was technically all Papyrus's fault. From the plan to the failure to go through with it …But it was Sans's fault she had run away. He couldn't admit that, however. Not to Papyrus… or moreso to himself. He couldn't admit it to himself. 

"Me?" Sans growled at his brother and clenched his fist. They wouldn't be here if it weren't for Papyrus's plan. They could have still been in that hall giving Frisk the time of her life. He could've held her, guiltlessly. At that reminder, he felt the twist of a knife in his soul. He wanted to drop dead right there, but Frisk was still out there, and she wasn't safe until she was off the streets. He didn't know what he would do when he found her…  _ if  _ he found her. 

"Yeah, you. You did this to me. You did this to her—"

"—You don't think I know that? I couldn't do it Sans, I don't know why you freaked out. I thought you would be happy!" Sans snarled and shoved his brother. 

"Papyrus, you asshole, you know I'd give my fuckin life for you if you asked! You stole my happiness. I went a whole month hating myself because of you. I hurt her feelings every day trying to prepare myself. It just… it fuckin hurts 'cause it should've been  _ me  _ who couldn't go through with it. Not you!" he spat. That was the truth, in the simplest form. Papyrus's eyes widened at his older brother. Sans shook his head and ran a stressed hand over his skull. 

"Now she's fuckin' gone… she hates me, I-... I don't know what to do. I fucked up," he whispered, his voice cracking. Papyrus sighed and hung his head. 

"I'm sorry, brother… I should've never done this, I should've never made you choose between her and I. I honestly believed I was in the right…" he murmured. Sans shook his head and started to run again. Papyrus followed him. They couldn't teleport willy nilly through the city because they could miss her. They'd have to comb it as quickly as possible to stop her from alerting anyone to her presence. Her soul had been glowing, which wasn't what a monster soul did. 

"I just want to know why? I guess that's a stupid question, she's perfect," he grumbled as they made it into the city. A few people were whispering amongst themselves. 

"She told me the other day that living with us has been the first time she's ever felt like she's mattered, or had any worth. I just, it put every doubt in my head. I couldn't stop asking myself what I was becoming. Would mom really be proud of the monsters we've become? The answer was no and I couldn't go through with it." Sans nodded along as he explained. The knowledge of what she had told Papyrus stung his soul. His eyes welled up and he shook with a mixture of rage and utter grief. 

"We have to find her.  _ I  _ have to find her. I have to make this right," he growled as he tried to hide the tears in his voice. Papyrus nodded curtly and the two combed the streets for hours. She was nowhere to be found. 

Sans made his way down an alleyway and paused when he found tattered clothing and a mask.  _ Her  _ mask. He snatched it off the ground and ran a delicate hand over it. What happened to her? He could feel his soul begin to panic and he stuffed the mask into his jacket pocket. She couldn't have been far. He glanced around at the shreds of fabric and he bared his teeth. She had been attacked. It reminded him that there was a very real chance she was dead. A chance he didn't want to think about or even acknowledge. 

"Brother!" Growled Papyrus as he shoved a monster from the back door of a business and onto the alleyway floor. Sans shot to his feet and grabbed the monster Papyrus had thrown. 

"This man says he saw Frisk," snarled Papyrus. Sans bared his teeth. He was probably one of the assholes who had attacked her. The monster wrestled with him as he clasped him in a vice grip and pulled him up. Sans slammed him against the wall, a low rumble tumbling from out of his chest as he snarled like some feral beast. 

"She was wearing this," he growled as he took out the mask and shoved it against the monster's face. 

"I don't know where she is, I swear! We lost her!" He howled as Sans bared his vicious fangs. 

"So she's still alive," he said, almost sighing in relief. That was the only good news he had heard so far. 

"Listen I won't say anything about what you're doing, just please let me go," pleaded the monster. Sans narrowed his eyes at him. He attacked Frisk.  _ He didn't deserve mercy.  _ His eyes snuffed out as red smoke began to pour from his sockets. 

"Where did she go? Tell me exactly what happened," he snarled. Papyrus paced behind him. 

"I… I don't have to say anything to you," he growled in a last ditch effort to be brave in the face of death. Sans gritted his teeth, his grin growing wider and he slammed the monster against the wall by his head. 

"Oh you  _ do  _ asshole, you do. Were you with anyone else?" He asked. The demon whimpered and shook his head. 

"Don't lie to me. You said  _ we lost her.  _ So who else did you attack her with?" He spoke slowly, as if he were talking to a toddler. 

"I'm a dead man anyway right? I ain't tellin' you!" Sans shook his head in disappointment and glanced back at his brother. They couldn't do this here in the back of a pub. 

"He's the only lead we have… what's your name, sir?" Asked Papyrus as he loomed over his brother. The monster shuddered and moaned at his current predicament. 

"Diego," he said mournfully as he stared into Sans's dead black glare. Sans knew there were at least two more. The only question is, how did Frisk get away? He remembered the way she had resisted his magic and thrown him back with some kind of energy from her soul. A shudder ran down his spine. 

"Diego… Well listen  _ closely  _ Diego. Human souls are no laughing matter, if they fall into the wrong hands, it could very well be used against us!—"

"—You're not the only people out lookin for her, pal. First come, first serve." Sans's attention was piqued at the new information. Someone else was searching for her? Nothing about that was good. 

"Who else was looking for her? What did they look like?" He asked. Diego hummed anxiously. He was about to lie, Sans could see it in his eyes. 

"I can't remember," he said quietly. Papyrus narrowed his eyes and nodded to his brother. Sans stepped away, the silent communication passing through. Before Diego could make a break for it, two blue bones shot through his chest and he was rendered motionless. He gasped and heaved for air, eyes wide at the pain that didn't physically hurt. 

"They… told us, you'd be comin'," he whispered. Sans narrowed his eyes. Before he could ask anymore questions, a bottle smashed against his skull. Papyrus retaliated quickly and shot a bone through the attacking monster's arm. 

Sans growled and punched him in the face before he grabbed the bone and yanked it down the rest of the monster's forearm, cutting a nasty gash through it. The monster screamed with agony, but still tried to fight, even as dust was pouring out of him. Papyrus raised his hand and turned his soul blue, before he threw him against the wall and the ground. 

Another one, a rock dwarf, charged out from the cover of a dumpster, mirror-like shards of magical glass acted as a shield and covered him. Red smoke. Papyrus summoned a bone in his hand and spun it as shards of glass shot at him. He deflected them and flung the bone through the shield. It knocked the monster back into Sans's hands as red mist dissipated around them. 

Sans grabbed the monster's casting arm and pivoted as he brought it over his shoulder. A loud crack and whimper filled the alley as he cracked the rock dwarf's arm, the shards of glass falling to the floor. Sans flipped him onto the ground and stomped in his throat. It wouldn't kill him, but it would be enough to keep him down. 

He turned back to Diego now that both of his goons were incapacitated. 

"Are we done playin' games!?" He snarled. Diego's eyes widened. He had underestimated their power. They had won that fight with ease! His guys only got one hit in and it was a surprise. He didn't want anymore trouble, but he knew the Brothers weren't going to just let him off easy, not now that he had put up a fight. His life was about to get much too painful, all for some human he had found not but six hours ago. He didn't want to be the brothers' hostage… 

Without a second's hesitation, Diego's body jolted and the blue bones solidified into hard white. Sans and Papyrus quickly shattered the bones in a last ditch effort to keep their one lead and witness alive, but the damage was done. He fell to the ground as dust covered his body. His soul glowed white and rose from his corpse before fading away into thin wisps of white mist. 

"That was our lead… who-who could've bought that kind of loyalty?" Asked Papyrus as Sans paced the ground anxiously. Someone else was looking for Frisk? Who could've been looking for her?  _ First come first serve…  _ They probably already had her.  _ Fuck.  _

He looked around at the two men they had incapacitated. They were still alive. They could get information out of them once they came back to their senses. But not here. 

"Whoever was after her probably already has her.  _ Shit.  _ She's not gonna be out on the streets. We're not gonna find her like this," reasoned Sans as he stooped down to the Jersey Devil who had smashed the glass against his skull. The pain began to pulse in his head and he sighed. 

"Well what do you propose we do?" Sans picked up a shard of broken glass and stared at it calculatingly. He couldn't be brash about this. Frisk needed help… and he had failed her. He wouldn't fail her again. He'd find her, but he couldn't just tear apart the entire Underground looking for her. When it came down to it,  _ patience  _ was one of Sans's only virtues. 

Then again, he didn't know how  _ patient  _ he could be while the new center of his gravity was possibly dead. All because of him. It just wasn't fair. 

"We'll make these guys talk. Oh-ho-ho-ho, we'll make 'em  _ sing  _ until they tell us who was after Frisk. Whoever it was… I'm gonna make 'em wish they were never born," he snarled, his eyes pouring red smoke as he glared down at the Jersey Devil. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


_ April First  _

  
  


__ Frisk didn't come to bed that night. Flowey didn't think anything of it. He knew there was something between her and Sans, so maybe they were together. However, when she didn't come back into the room to tell Flowey good morning, he knew something must've been up. 

Flowey ventured out of the sanctuary of their room and crawled along the floor as he began his search.

"Frisk?" He called. Sans's door was wide open and his room was empty. Papyrus's room was also empty. He heard grunts and groans coming from downstairs. Flowey's panic spiked and he sped up as he tumbled down the stairs. 

"Frisk!?" He called again, growing more desperate. Where  _ was  _ she? He began to run over the events of that month. That Tuesday night they had been making chicken wings when Papyrus had barged in and declared he and Sans needed to speak alone…Sans's distance that followed. Frisk had been super worried something was up, and now she was gone? 

His eyes widened as he realized what they must have done. They turned her in! His beady little eyes welled up with tears. He hadn't been there to protect her either! He had let his fear of his father and his emotions get the best of him. Not only that, but he had foolishly trusted that she would be fine with the brothers! She must've been so terrified, she must've blamed him! 

"Frisk! No! Frisk, I'm so sorry," he sobbed. 

"WHO WAS AFTER HER!?" Flowey jumped at the roar of Sans's voice. It was coming from the basement. 

"I'm dead if I tell, I'm dead if I don't." Flowey didn't recognize that voice. His curiosity was piqued and he made his way to the basement door. 

"You're gonna be more than dead, trust me buddy. If you don't tell me where to find Frisk, I'm going to do unspeakable things. I'm gonna make you wish you  _ were  _ dead," he said quietly. Flowey listened intently. They were looking for her? That didn't make any sense. If they turned her in, why would they—unless they didn't.  _ Was Frisk kidnapped!?  _ Flowey grew more and more mortified the more he listened. 

"You don't know who you're up against bud—"

"—Don't call me bud. I ain't your bud—"

"—Well I just assumed, cause you called me buddy—"

"—Oh so you think you're funny now? Is that what this is? I'm laughing my ass off." Flowey rolled his eyes and tried to listen as Papyrus sighed with irritation. 

"Sans can we get back on topic, please and thank you." Flowey reached his vines up and opened the basement door. 

"You don't know who you're up against. I ain't gonna say who, but if you knew, you'd be shakin' in your pants. That's why Diego would've rather died. They control the Underground. People are loyal to them. Now, ain't no one trynna deny you two ain't the scariest mutha'fucka's down 'ere, but you don't got the influence like they do. They own everything, they own everyone. Ain't no one gonna betray that just because two spooky skeletons show up at their door—" Sans punched him across the face. 

"Who is it?" He growled, his eyelights snuffing out. He was done playing the pronoun game. He needed a name. 

"Yeah, hurt me all you want, you ain't gettin' a word outta me," he snapped back. 

"We've been at this for hours. Let's work on the dwarf. This one isn't going to talk," grumbled Papyrus. He was at his wits end with these fools and they were no closer to finding Frisk than they were combing the streets. 

"This is more about the girl than it is about the soul, ain't it… if she's with who I think she's with, she's already dead… and if she's not already dead, they'll find a way to squeeze a profit out of her. Lots of sickos out there who'd love to get their hands on a human woman. I hope you find her," he said with a smug smirk. Sans's soul swelled with rage and he clenched his fists. He turned to the Jersey Devil, eyes pitch black, the temperature in the room dropped five degrees. 

The Jersey devil shivered, his eyes wide as he found himself sucked in that glare. Sans stooped down before the monster, his grin wide and void of humor. He grabbed his snout in his large skeletal hand and clenched tighter to evoke a whimper from his throat. Sans forced him to look down at him.

"For your sake… I hope we do too." He let go of the devil's mug and pat his cheek in mock affection. He stood up and left the basement, Papyrus filing behind him. 

"So what's going on?" Snapped Flowey as they passed him. Both brothers jumped in shock; they had completely forgotten about the weed in their home. Sans picked him up and let him rest on his shoulder as they made their way out to the shed outside where they were keeping the rock dwarf. 

"Frisk is missing… and it's our fault—"

"— _ your fault,"  _ Sans grumbled under his breath. Papyrus shot him a withering look. Flowey narrowed his eyes at both of them. Frisk wouldn't just run off if they hadn't provoked her. His suspicions of them turning her in resurfaced. 

"So you  _ were  _ going to turn her in, and then… didn't? Why would you do that to her?" He asked, disgust radiating in his voice. Sans and Papyrus avoided his eyes. 

"You two are unbelievable… I can't blame her. What are you expecting her to do if you  _ do  _ find her? Jump in your arms and swoon?" Asked Flowey. It was a slap of realism that Sans tried not to think about. There a very real possibility that she wouldn't accept them, that she would tell them to fuck off and leave her alone. She would have every right to do that. 

The two brothers were silent after that question. They both had ideas of how they could try to make up for it. Sans would've done anything. She didn't even have to live with them anymore, as long as he knew she was safe. He knew he didn't deserve her anymore. His soul broke at the mere reminder that she had been falling in love with him just like he had been. He had fucked it all up. He had never deserved her in the first place. 

"I'm going to help you find her, but understand I'm not doing it so you can have your human soul back to use whenever the need suits you. I'm doing this because she's in danger. She is my best friend and once we find her, we're doing things her way from now on…and you're going to put your pride away," he said. Papyrus narrowed his eyes skeptically, but neither brothers argued the point. They'd do anything to get her back.  _ Sans _ would do anything to get her back. 

⁂

Later that evening, as they sat in the kitchen over bowls of cereal, a noise disturbed them. Had a crowd formed outside their door? 

Sans and Papyrus shot each other a look of shock and bolted towards the door to see what the commotion was. Sans pulled back the curtain and choked at the sight of what seemed to be the entire town of Snowden outside. They might as well have been carrying torches and pitchforks. 

Papyrus threw the door open and marched out to confront the crowd of angry Snowden residents. 

"What's going on!?" The Lieutenant roared. Bonnie and Charlotte shouldered their way to the front and scowled at him. 

"Where is Moxie!? What have you two done with her? We know she went to the masquerade, but we haven't seen her back." Sans slipped out onto the porch and the crowd seemed to unconsciously step back. 

Papyrus sighed and glanced at his brother, but Sans only looked away, his eyes going black with anger and despair. 

"It's… my fault. I… I said a few things that were totally out of line and Moxie… ran off during the party. While we were trying to find her, she was kidnapped." The crowd gasped as they registered Papyrus's words. 

"How could you let that happen!?" Snarled a man from the crowd. The rest of the mob roared their disapproval. He didn't know whether to be touched or worried about the cult followers she had. He smiled softly at the knowledge that if Frisk were here to see this, she'd be brought to tears. A grimace soon followed. She wasn't here. 

"Quiet! Quiet all of you! Rest assured that my brother and I will not rest until she is safe in our Snowden Sanctuary once again. We are hunting tirelessly, but there are very few leads to her capturer. So maybe instead of coming here belly-aching and demanding answers, you help us in our search in any little way you can!" Sans had to hand it to his brother. He knew how to tame a crowd. 

The Snowden residents hushed and one by one turned to each other. Bonnie frowned and sent a meaningful look at Sans. As Papyrus went into the crowd to give them every piece of information he knew, a familiar bunny woman parted from the crowd and cautiously approached him. Alice. 

"How are you doin'?" Asked Alice. The lights in Sans's eyes flickered and he stood up off the wall. 

"Doesn't matter," he murmured. She narrowed her eyes. 

"Well of course it does. I know how she feels about you." Sans scowled at her. He didn't want anymore reminders of his failure… Or her tears and hatred for him.  _ Papyrus lied. It was my fault. I don't deserve your pity. Just say it.  _

"Don't give me any pity."  _ Well that wasn't exactly the wording I was going for. Ugh, idiot. _ Alice frowned and looked at the ground. Sans glanced up at his brother as the residents of Snowden slowly bid their farewells and trickled away back to their town. 

"I'm not trying to give you pity…" she sighed. He shrugged and went to open the door. 

"I'll find her… maybe Grillby knows something. He's a piece of shit right?" The two chuckled wryly and Alice nodded. 

"Come by soon and probe him. I know I'm not going to. I'm quitting and any request I ask of him would be met with—"

"—I get it. I'll come by, it's my birthday in like two days… and who knows, you might need some back up. " She smiled at him and he bowed his head. Despite all their rough history, they still managed to hold friendly conversation. 

"I'll find her, Alice," he promised. She nodded along and watched as he and his brother slipped back inside. 

⁂

  
  


_ April Third  _

Neither of their leads were talking. The rock dwarf didn't even talk period, unlike the Jersey Devil. That bastard loved to talk, just about all the wrong things. Sometimes Sans just wanted to kill him. They had burned holes in his wings, chipped away at the Rock Dwarf's face, removed fingers and waterboarded. The two were relentlessly loyal to this mystery person. 

Sans just didn't understand why. Who were they so afraid of? It didn't make any sense to him.

He had gotten out of the house. He just couldn't stay there anymore. His depression was growing worse each day, and he couldn't handle it. He needed to drink and at least get his mind off of it and support Alice. Besides… it was his birthday. Might as well take the edge off of turning twenty-eight.  _ Twenty-eight.  _ Not like any of his other birthdays were good. This one stung just a little more. 

He hadn't been to work in two days, but Papyrus had excused the both of them as they pushed on their investigation. They couldn't do that for long until they were investigated by an outside officer. They'd have to get back to work tomorrow, which wouldn't help at all. 

Sans grit his teeth and he drank his mustard. His attention was grabbed as Alice stormed out of Grillby's office. He grinned as she jumped over the bar and grabbed several cases of booze. Grillby chased her, his eyes widening when she smashed it on the ground. 

"Fuck you! I'm leaving Grillby's and there's nothing you can do to stop me, asshole!" She threw another bottle of vodka onto the ground. Sans got up, eyes wide at the vandalism. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride and respect for her. 

"You can't leave, you signed a contract! I own you! Now get your ass back ups—" Grillby dodged as she hurled a bottle of tequila at him. A few customers gasped and raced out of the building. Sissy's eyes bulged as she watched her coworker fight against their boss. 

"Alice stop!" She cried. Grillby pointed at the woman and nodded frantically. 

"Listen to Sissy!" He said. Sans shook his head as he leaned against the bar.  _ Looks like I came at the right time.  _

"I'm never going to be your slave again! I am free!" She growled. Grillby snarled and pulled a switchblade from his belt. He lunged at Alice and she screamed. Sans grabbed Grillby and pulled him away. Grillby stumbled back and crashed against a table. 

"Guys it's my birthday can we not..?" He grunted. Some birthday. The thought almost made him laugh. Grillby narrowed his eyes at him before he scoffed and pushed himself up. 

"Listen Sans, we don't have a problem. We have a good thing going. I don't get in your business… You don't get in mine," he warned. Sans's eyes went black. He wasn't in the mood for this. 

"This is the wrong week for this, Grillby," he said. Grillby flared at the words and he shot a withering look at Alice. 

"You're right, it  _ is,"  _ he growled at his girl. Alice flipped him off as she came to stand behind Sans. Sans narrowed his eyes. Something clicked in his mind and he glanced back at Alice. He knew coming here would help!

"Grillby, who's your supplier?" He asked. Grillby froze at the question. 

"What?" Sans waved Alice out of his way as he jumped over the bar and looked through the bottles of booze. 

"He won't tell you," said Alice. Sans's eyes darkened as he kicked a shard of glass. He looked up at Grillby and read his posture. 

"Why not Grillbs?" He asked. Alice's ears drooped and she narrowed her eyes at her boss. 

"Because they're the few people he's scared of," she spat. Sans leaned against the bar and glanced at Alice. 

"Do you know his suppliers?" He asked. Grillby's eyes widened and he clenched his jaw. He begged with his eyes at Alice and shook his head. Alice smirked and looked back at Sans. 

"Fine, Alice—get out of my bar. Just…" he shook his head. Alice grinned and blew him a kiss. 

"I knew you'd come to your senses Grillby!" She sing-songed as she skipped out from his club. Sans narrowed his eyes at Grillby. 

"Now what—"

"—What the fuck Sans? I thought we had an understanding. Now listen, I know you're missin' your girl, but my bar is sacred ground," he growled. Sans nodded slowly and drank the rest of his mustard. A new giddiness filled him. Of course. Grillby was supplied his booze from an outside source because Papyrus had outlawed alcohol production in Snowden. If Sans knew anything about the Underground, it was that whoever owned the means to get intoxicated, owned the Underground. 

So they had Frisk, or at least  _ someone  _ in that circle had her. He clenched his jaw. He didn't know whether to be comforted by the new knowledge or terrified. He did know one thing, he'd have to stake out Grillby's and find out who the suppliers were. He'd have to follow them. 

There was just one problem. He had to work or else they'd attract suspicion.  _ The weed!  _

Just like that, Sans had formulated a plan. He smiled at Grillby and finished his mustard. 

"Don't worry Grillby, I'm not gonna mess with your suppliers… good luck, pal," he said as he put his glass down. Grillby narrowed his eyes at him and watched him meander out from the club.

"Happy birthday…" murmured Grillby. Sans scoffed and shook his head. He had a new lead, and it seemed a lot more promising than the two assholes holed up in his house. That in itself was the best birthday present that could have fallen in his lap.  _ Lucky me.  _

  
  


⁂

_ April Fourth  _

  
  


Doug asked about Frisk at work. It was the one question Sans had been hoping and praying he wouldn't be asked. 

"You mean you weren't at the mob that stormed our property?" Doug shook his head and laughed. 

"Oh there was a  _ mob?  _ Bonnie and Charlotte really know how to organize. I was on a patrol with Dakota." Sans nodded slowly and shrugged. When he told Doug about what happened, he may or may not have left out a  _ lot  _ of key details… like  _ why  _ she ran off in the first place. 

"That doesn't make any sense though. What the hell happened to make her that hysterical?" He asked, his eyes narrowing at Sans. Before he could say anything, Doug's eyes lit up. 

"You know she's been talking about the Angelicans a lot, right? She must've had a confrontation with…The Purge. During the Purge she blew out the candle. The King must've threatened her," he reasoned. Sans nodded along slowly.  _ Yeah… that's exactly why she ran away.  _ Sans ignored the fact she had been looking to the Angelicans. That's not really what mattered at the moment. 

"You know, that makes a lot of sense… but the  _ reason  _ she ran off is really unimportant. What's important is that we find her," he said. Doug nodded. 

"Of course. I'd do anything for her, you know that. What do you know so far?" He asked. Sans shrugged helplessly. 

"We have two leads right now and a hunch. All I know is the person that has her right now has all of the Underground bought, so no one is telling me anything. I have suspicions that it might be related to the drug ring," he grumbled. Doug narrowed his eyes. 

"The drug ring? That's like… three gangs," he murmured. Sans shrugged. He knew that. Every rookie guard in the military knew that. It was the people you didn't mess with, unless you wanted to be kicked from the force. 

"Well it's  _ someone  _ at the top. Here's what I'm thinking, we stake out Grillby's for his suppliers and follow them. They come Sunday night to restock Grillby's for the week. So for now we're just playing the waiting game," said Sans. He hated the waiting game. The longer they waited, the more likely it was that Frisk was dead. That's why Papyrus was still chiseling away at the assholes in their house. 

He turned away as Doug lit up his cigar and puffed his smoke. A weight of guilt hung on his soul. What was he going to do when they found her?  _ If  _ they found her? Her words echoed in his head like they did every night. 

_ "but you were. YOU were. Maybe Papyrus didn't go through with it, but you were. And I trusted you. I can't believe I trusted you. I'm an idiot!"  _

_ "Frisk, listen, I can explain everything."  _

_ "I don't want you too, I have heard enough… How long have you been planning this? Oh my God… this is why you avoided me and rejected and turned me away, isn't it? Oh my God… we had sex and you knew you were going to do this!"  _

_ "No, no, no, listen, I know it's bad, and I'm an idiot. I haven't gone a day without hating myself for this, but I promised Papyrus—" _

_ "—Right cause he's all you have left… well you two can have each other! I understand it all now. Once again I have been labeled an asset."  _

_ "You're not, that's not true. I… I'm so sorry."  _

_ "Fuck you. I don't ever want to see you again! I… I honestly believed I was falling in love with you."  _

_ "Frisk… no, wait—where are you gonna go?"  _

_ "Far away from you! I would rather die than be around you or your brother!"  _

He let out a sharp breath as his soul clenched. He hid his face in his hands as his eye sockets welled with hot, angry, tears. 

Everything she had said had been right. He wouldn't be surprised if she flipped him the bird and cussed him out the moment they found her. He wouldn't have been shocked if she started crying and telling him to leave and never come back. She had given him a chance after all, and he had fucked it all up. 

He would do anything to make up for his wrong against her. If she wanted to join the Angelicans, he would, even if he did believe it was futile martyrdom. 

At the end of the day, he told himself he really just cared to know if she was ok. That she was alive. It was unbearable. 

Doug noticed his ribs shaking and he shot Sans a concerned look. Was he crying? 

"You ok, mate?" Asked Doug. Sans seethed and furiously wiped his eyes. He cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice. 

"We're gonna find her," he said. Sans bared his teeth and he nodded. 

"I know, I know," he spat. Doug smiled sadly and patted his friend's back. He knew just how much Frisk had come to mean to Sans. 

He had to pull himself together. He couldn't let people like the Jersey Devil or Grillby see this was getting to him. She'd be eaten alive if these sharks knew just how much she meant to him. For her sake, he had to play this right. He had to be two steps ahead… 

The only problem was that he didn't even know who he was trying to stay two steps ahead of in the first place. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sans is in "No Bullshit" Mode right now and Anthony the Jersey Devil is just not matching his energy. 
> 
> Up Next: A true Day in the life of The Black Widow.


	44. Web of Influence

Chapter Forty-Four: Web of Influence

* * *

Bernard was late. That was all Muffet could focus on as she sat in her carriage, sipping her coffee. Bernard was late with her dry cleaning, and by extension, was going to make her late to the photo shoot, which would  _ not  _ work in her favor. She was going to kill that insipid bear the moment he stepped in her buggy. 

"Harebrained idiot," she spat to herself as she paged her photographer that they'd have to push the session back. Right after she pressed send, the bear knocked on her window and she grit her teeth. 

He opened the door when Muffet nodded to him, and he gave a nervous laugh when he noticed the furious spark in her six, onyx eyes. She yanked the dress away from him and hung it up next to her. 

"What took you so long, dearie?" She asked, an edge of irritation in her honey-coated voice. He knew from experience not to let her voice sound like that.  _ He had made her voice sound like that.  _

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Muffet, really I am—"

"—Oh don't worry, dearie, don't  _ worry.  _ I'm not mad at you… I'm just  _ disappointed  _ is all," she crooned as she stroked his bearded face. His beady eyes widened and he avoided looking into her eyes. 

"It won't happen again," he murmured. Muffet nodded as she feigned sympathy. She nodded and hummed with agreement. 

"Oh you're right Bernard, it  _ won't  _ happen again. Now run along," she said as she gave a condescending pat to his head. He let out a shaking breath and turned heel to run.  _ Let him run.  _

Muffet nodded to her driver, and they began to move. She reached for her pager and sighed as she wrote another quick message. Her entire schedule just got pushed back by ten minutes. Julian would not be happy about that. That wasn't her problem though. People made time for her, because they knew that if they didn't, there would be hell to pay. When people went by her schedule, the businesses ran smoothly and everyone was happy.  _ Bernard  _ had decided to go by his own schedule. That just wouldn't do. 

Muffet grabbed her journal and clicked on her pen.  _ Talk to Dante, discussion: Bernard and Woshua's Drycleaners _ , she wrote. She sighed mournfully and tossed the book away. 

It wasn't long before they finally made it to the studio and she stepped out of the car. A woman raced out to greet her and take the dress so she wouldn't have to carry it in. At least  _ some  _ people knew how to act.

Muffet led the way into the studio and removed her wide-brimmed, black, velvet hat and let her hair down as she entered the photography room. Everyone was waiting for her and the exclusive dress she had brought. 

Her photographer, a vile, slimey, little man by the name of Jared, jumped at her entrance. He gave her a wide, ugly smile. He was lucky he was so talented with his camera, and worked for practically nothing. 

"Let me see the model," she ordered. A petite Gorgon with snakes that were colored the way oil reflected light stood before her. She had a purple sheen to her skin, and her eyes were covered with aviator shades. It would work perfectly with the brown she had picked out for this dress. She smiled a fanged smile, her reflection in the model's sunglasses.

"There you are, dearie," she crooned. Her assistant pulled out the dress. It was a long gown, it's skirt made of frilly, matte, brown tulle. The back was cut out, and a leather neck piece draped down the small of the back. It was designed to look like a violin, and by extension, a brown recluse. It was an exclusive. This dress would be on the front cover of her magazine. 

"Alright get her in it, then let's start. I'm already twenty minutes behind schedule," she said curtly. She didn't need to raise her voice. She merely waved her hands and everyone ran circles around her to make her happy. 

Once the model was ready, she was positioned on the set piece and Muffet narrowed her eyes calculatively. Those sunglasses had to go. 

"Take those off, they worked with the leather jacket, not the gown," she said. The model hesitated. She was after all a Gorgon with a petrifying gaze. The employees gulped and nodded with nervous encouragement at her. 

"Jer-bear, work your magic," hummed Muffet. It almost sounded like a threat. Jared nodded at her and stared into his camera. 

"Alright babe, turn your back to us so we can get that violin in, alright… give us a little, flirtatious but subtle glance over the shoulder—yep that's it. Now hold it…" His voice was so nasally, Muffet could feel the non-existent milk in her plastic breasts curdle and her ovaries shrink at the mere sound of it. He had never failed her however, so he stayed on her payroll and list of associates.

Despite knowing this, Muffet subconsciously stepped away from him. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


The Diamond Sun Casino was one of Muffet's most successful casinos in Hotland. It had a giant sun chandelier in the main game room that sparkled and roughly cost around five hundred thousand gold. That attraction had given the casino it's namesake. Muffet was just glad her casino made double the value of the chandelier every day.

As she sauntered into her casino, she was swarmed by paparazzi. She covered her eyes with a pair of designer sunglasses as she entered the Casino. The sun chandelier called for it. A man from upper management joined her. 

"You made it!" He exclaimed. She rolled her eyes in irritation. What he had really meant was,  _ "finally." _

"Dry cleaning this morning was ten minutes late. My entire schedule's been thrown off." The tone in her voice was enough to shut down the conversation. One expectant look got it back on track and he talked her ear off about how the facility was working as they went around making sure everyone was happy.

Muffet watched the money changers weave in and out of crowds of gambling monsters. The slot machines were jingling away with coins, and people were cheering over their dice throws. They passed a game of black jack and Muffet scrutinized a play one of the men was about to make. That wouldn't work in his favor… must have been a new player. 

She smirked and moved on to a second floor, private lounge. 

"Now… the reason I called you here is because—normally I could handle this myself— but uh, we've been having an influx on robberies lately. People, or at least a group of people have been scamming the machines. It's been losing us a good one third of profits," explained the manager. Muffet blinked slowly at him.  _ First late dry cleaning and now this?  _

"Are the security guards and money changers not doing their jobs?" She spat. He tensed at the hiss of her voice. No one liked making Muffet angry. 

"They're working double time to stop it," he said. Double time wasn't good enough.  _ It's like I'm surrounded by toddlers.  _

"Has security footage caught these people?" She asked. He nodded. 

"A couple live footage and a few suspects." Muffet hummed in thought. She couldn't be disrespected like that by  _ civilians.  _

"You see them again take them out back and we can schedule a meet and greet with me and my Shelob. Until then, double down on security measures, check the money changers before and after every break and just before they get off work, just in case it's an inside job," she ordered with a satisfied nod. She did with thieves what she saw fit. He nodded thoughtfully as he mulled over her request. Muffet took out her journal once more and sighed with irritation. Dante was going to have his work cut out for him.  _ Shelob needs being fed.  _

"When they're found and brought down, I want to speak with their ring leader. Just a little one on one chat," she said. He nodded knowingly and bowed his head. 

"We'll make it happen," he said. She smiled and stood up when she felt the meeting had adjourned. 

"Perfect. I'm going to have to cut this short if I'm going to make it to my next appointment on time. I expect it to be taken care of.  _ Ciao,"  _ she said as she sauntered out. He nodded and like that, she was off. 

⁂

In total, Muffet had five casinos. The Diamond Sun, The Scorched Scorpion, The Diamondback, The Spider's Web and her personal favorite, the Hourglass. Both The Spider's Web and the Hourglass were designed to almost trap its customers inside for hours on end. With labyrinths of gambling machines and bars, one could get lost in them. The Hourglass had removed all windows and clocks, the only way to tell time? The giant, red hourglass in the center of the grand room. 

It was a magically hellish place, and for that, Muffet loved it. The Hourglass was also the place she did her dirtier business with her associate, Julian. 

This time she wasn't greeted with any fanfare to signal her arrival. With her wide-brimmed hat down, she made her way through the crowds with few obstacles. 

She made her way past guards and into a heavily secured room. She typed in a password and pulled out a key to the elevator. It blinked red and opened up for her. She stepped inside, the red light cascading over her as she waited. Her pager blinked and she looked down.  _ -You're late.-  _ She rolled her eyes, and pocketed it. 

The door slid open and she stepped out to meet Julian and Alexander. Still dressed in a three piece suit even underground. Not Alexander, however, and she appreciated the tight, black shirt. 

"I have been waiting for this since you told me about it; now let me see your product," she said. Julian nodded to one of his associates. A badger brought forth a metal case and put it on the table in the center of the vault. Muffet grinned as Julian opened the case. A vial of liquid lay in a cushioned interior. It was dark and syrupy. 

She pinched it in between her forefinger and thumb and held it up. 

"Like I said the other day, it's got about the same high as Heroin and Rohypnol, just less dangerous while in use. Withdrawals are the same as the symptoms of a nasty spider bite. I think it fits your brand.  _ Highly addictive.  _ This drug is going to make us a lot of money on the streets," he said. Muffet smirked as she held it up. 

"I'm glad you put my funding into something sustainable… where's your boy Dante? I have need for his skills," she said. Julian nodded to one of his associates. Dante was there with them.  _ Oh I didn't even see him.  _ She sent him a look and pulled off her sunglasses to consider him. 

Dante was a fire imp formed from black fire. He almost looked like a shadow made of light, if that was even possible. His enemies dubbed him the name Black Fire. 

"How many are in production right now?" She asked as she curled her finger to coax him to her. As Julian prattled away about his new drug, Dante came to her. She opened her ledger and pulled out her current hit list that she had built up during a day of inconveniences. He overlooked it and nodded slowly to himself. He winked at her and gave it back, leaving a small charred hole where his fingers had once been. 

She turned her attention back to Julian and walked back over to the drug. If they flooded the underbelly of the Core and Hotland, it would certainly make the poorer classes of monsters stagnate. King Asgore would turn a blind eye as long as it didn't enter the royal guard or infiltrate his court of nobles and servants. Muffet knew drugs were one of the best ways to control a population. It was the best way to control without fear, but rather pleasure. That was what Muffet was good at and Asgore knew that. He let her do whatever she wanted as long as she never directly opposed him. Sometimes it felt like she was the one running this kingdom. 

"I want it flooding the gutter; night clubs, dive bars, casinos. Replace heroin with this in your supply cycles… What are we calling it?" She asked. Julian glanced at his associate. The badger nodded his head at her. 

"We've been calling it Reclusion." Muffet grinned at the name. 

"Like the brown recluse. Very clever. You know just how to make me happy… put a violin on this glass case and make my wallet sing," she ordered as she closed the case and handed it back to the badger. Julian grinned doggishly. 

"It's always a pleasure, Ms. Muffet," he said. Muffet nodded and the two hugged each other. Alexander twitched, his tail swaying. He looked like he wanted to say something to her. Before Muffet could make her way out he cleared his throat. His voice took her by surprise and she glanced up. 

"Can I help you?" She asked. He smiled nervously and nodded at the elevator. 

"I wanted to ask you about Ms. Valentine." At first Muffet didn't remember who he was talking about.  _ Who?  _ It suddenly occurred to her that he was talking about  _ Frisk.  _

"Oh… she's doing just fine, why do you want to know?" She asked. Julian's ears flicked with annoyance as Alexander scratched the back of his neck. 

"I was wondering if she needed any protection? I would… enjoy working as a part time security guard for her when you're not around her. Especially with those skeletons. Word is they snatched two guys off the street last week, and took one of our one boys…" Muffet's eyes widened. She hadn't paid any attention to the Gasters, but if what Alexander said was true, then that meant they really were looking for her. She was no match for the brothers if they attacked her. She needed to solidify her ownership of the human. She'd figure that out later, for now it couldn't hurt to hire a close associate to protect her while she was working. 

"They know we have a connection to your human, and eventually it's going to point to you," whispered Alexander. Muffet looked up at him and grit her teeth.

"Fine. Julian, if that's ok, he is _ your _ personal bodyguard," she said. Alexander pursed his lips and glanced at his boss. Julian bared his teeth, but he shook his hand. 

"I don't care, my men can handle the brothers," he grunted. Muffet knew what he really meant. They were all under her payroll anyway, asking him for permission was just politeness. Alex grinned and nodded his head. 

"Well then it's settled. Come to my manor tomorrow morning. She needs to get out of my house for the day and I can't babysit her for the rest of my life," she said. Alex smiled and subtly pumped his fist with giddiness at the notion he could be around that mysterious and kind woman. It would be a breath of fresh air from his normal routine. 

Muffet smiled softly and nodded to herself. She looked back to Julian and bowed her head. He waved her off and his men began to pack up as she left. 

Her day may have started off in a rough spot, but the promise of Reclusion was enough to brighten it. Her bank account would be grateful to her, and she'd be able to deal with the thieves at the Diamond Sun effectively. 

Sometimes running the Underground's economy was exhausting, but no one else but her could do it.  _ No one.  _

  
  


⁂

"Mettaton, can you look over these gossip columns before we publish?" Asked the editor. Mettaton took a sip of his soda and waved him in. 

"Of course dahling, put them right there on my desk," he said with a dismissive wave. The editor nodded and put the stack of photos and columns on Mettaton's desk. Mettaton liked to be in control of what was written and pushed on the news. 

"Keep wearing those pants Richard… they make your ass look good," he said with a suggestive wink. The editor laughed nervously and nodded along before quickly jogging out of the office. 

Mettaton lowered his feet back onto the floor and took up the pile. He started a rejection and approval stack. As he made his way through the photos, a certain subject caught his eyes. 

"Oh hello," he murmured to himself. It was Moxie Valentine in his theatre. She was smiling, her lips were being shown and she had a different mask. He flipped it over to read the column written about her.  _ She's not with the brothers anymore? Who is she… Muffet… well she never told me!  _

Mettaton jumped up with the picture and dialed her on his personal phone. He tapped impatiently on the desk while the dial tone droned monotonously in his ear. 

"Come on, come on,  _ pick up  _ Muffet!" He groaned.  _ -Salutations, you've reached Ms. Muffet's voicemail. If you have an appointment with me, please say your name and number and I'll get back to you. Goodbye now-  _ He hung up and dialed her again another three times until she finally picked up. 

"This better be important, Mettaton," she spat through the phone. Mettaton grinned and practically danced around his office. He definitely used his human body now that he had it. 

"Muffet, dahling,  _ when  _ were you going to tell me you had Moxie Valentine under your care?" He crooned. Muffet paused for a moment. 

"I didn't think it mattered too much," she said. He groaned and threw himself dramatically into his chair. 

"It matters  _ so  _ much! Moxie is the first monster that the Gaster brothers ever showed compassion for. She's the most interesting thing to have graced the underground. Not to mention she's the most human looking monster I've ever seen. Even with all the human surgeries, my employees don't look nearly as small and perfect as h—" Muffet cut him off with an amused snort. He froze and narrowed his eyes. 

"What is so funny?" He asked. Muffet hummed with knowing laughter that was driving him crazy. Did she know something he didn't? 

"You're just so oblivious, Mettaton. She  _ is  _ a human, which is why the brothers had her in the first place," she said. Mettaton's eyes widened with shock. That explained so much! He was almost mad at himself for not seeing it before. 

"Well that changes everything…" he murmured. His soul was growing more and more excited at the knowledge. Of course he wouldn't go running to the royal guard. This was the one opportunity he would have to experience the company of a real human! How perfect it was that she had fallen right into Muffet's web. 

"You know, I've been wondering how she could be of use to me," murmured Muffet. Mettaton looked through Moxie's pictures. Now he saw it. She was definitely a human. It was amazing she had gone so long under cover. He supposed a lot more people knew but never said anything because of her connection with the Gasters. No regular civilian would ever go after the brothers in their right mind. Not even the most desperate. She was lucky she had very powerful friends. Mettaton wanted to be one of those friends. 

"I will pay to spend time with her. Without the mask. Tomorrow night. Let me treat her to dinner, name your price," he said as he pulled out his checkbook. He could practically hear the smirk in her voice. 

"Now we're talking. Let's start at… let's see… I've spent about five hundred gold on her this week. if I'm going to make that back… six hundred gold for a dinner," she said. Mettaton sucked in through his teeth as he wrote his check. 

"For a night with a real human? I'd pay a million… don't write that down," he said as he wrote out her name. Muffet snickered. 

"Well then it's settled. I'll have Frisk made up for you tomorrow night. Nine o'clock." Mettaton grinned and nodded. A real human! Her name was  _ Frisk.  _ What a strange little name. He bet she was beautiful. Humans were stunning. He wondered what she had done to keep herself alive. The brothers were ruthless, and the fact she had gained such an amorous relationship with them was…  _ fascinating _ . He couldn't wait to finally spend time with her. If things went well, perhaps he could even explore more of humanity in his bedroom. 

"Thank you Muffet. Love you, dahling," he said as he blew kisses at the phone. Muffet said her goodbyes and they hung up. 

A small cautionary voice reached out to him. If she was a human and the brothers had lost her, they would be on the hunt. They probably already were. If they knew he had been around her, and he knew paparazzi would be on the prowl for press, he would get destroyed. 

He didn't know who he should fear more, Sans or Papyrus. He remembered when Sans had tossed wine onto his suit. He had suspicions that Sans and his little human must've had some kind of relationship before she left. 

He smirked. How satisfying would it be to take something the brothers cared for as his own? They deserved to be knocked down a few pegs. He'd really enjoy being the one to do it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: She's not called the Black Widow for nothing... 
> 
> Up Next: Flowey stakes out Grillby's. 
> 
> I hope you are all enjoying part 3 so far! I'd love hearing your feedback, whether it be comments, kudos or bookmarks. My Tumblr is active if you want to interact with these characters or ask for What If one-shots. See you Saturday!


	45. The Witch of Ebbot Mountain

**A/N: Art dump!**

**[Muffet character design](https://photos.app.goo.gl/zXaWfoA5Du8ugxfE7) **

**[More Sans character design](https://photos.app.goo.gl/1Nu5kjfZGqqRYjg18) **

**Also! Also!!! I have a Spotify playlist for this story too! Kind of... An unofficial/kind of official sound track?[Check it out here! ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5yf3lzkan7zJ5x2zsMrIUZ?si=Xg7rXwMBRLCCslnn0ckM1g)**

**Ok, that's all, enjoy chapter 45!**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Five: The Witch of Ebbot Mountain 

* * *

_ A young girl stood over the city, her arms outstretched. Her soul pulsed a bright red as she summoned the storm above her, drinking in the magic radiating out from the mountain.  _

_ She was a force of nature. The city held its breath in fear as the thunder boomed and lightning cracked the sky open. Her fingers called to the lightning, white light spread down her veins. This wasn't her own magic. Human magic didn't do this. She was a vessel. She was dangerous. Was she even human?  _

_ She was chanting in an ancient tongue. The white light streaming down her veins turned light blue.  _

_ A lightning bolt shot down and struck her fingers. A burst of blue light spilled from her as she said the last of her incantation. The lightning bolt, the rain, the wind, it was all frozen in time. A true display of her power.  _

_ Yet to the girl, it was merely a game.  _

_ The people of Ebbot knew there was only one thing to be done. The witch of Ebbot mountain would have to be struck down. No one could foresee when she would get bored of her games and point her powers at them. She was too powerful, and rumors spread that she conspired with monsters. That was the only way they could explain her sheer power. She was a witch, and she stole magic from the demons.  _

_ It was only a matter of time before she carried out their evil will.  _

_ The witch of Ebbot Mountain was hunted down. How strange for a modern crowd to act in such ancient behavior. Pitchforks and torches should've been abandoned to the age of Salem…  _

_ But the witch of Ebbot Mountain was hunted down… and she was thrown to the demons. The first sacrifice of many more to come.  _

_ But unlike the others, bodies slack and soulless, the young girl survived. Of course she did. Her soul burned, her soul pulsed with red light. Her soul wouldn't allow her to die.  _

_ Those bastards had wanted her dead, and if she was going to die, it was going to be on  _ her _ terms. _

  
  
  


⁂

  
  
  


Flowey found himself in a very familiar place. Outside. A place he had spent years of his life observing the civilians and learning their ways and customs. Watching from the shadows. 

His roots were deep, both physically and mentally. He had familiarized himself with the struggles of his father's subjects… which were by extension  _ his  _ subjects too. He didn't think of them like that. They were each individuals with their own lives, their own dreams and wants. He didn't think of himself as a prince anymore. He was just… as Sans and Papyrus put it… a  _ weed.  _ A weed that should've been dead. A weed that had tried and failed to save the one person he truly loved, only to end up dead… A weed that had found that same love in a now missing person. He couldn't help but believe it was his fault. 

So he was here, helping the reapers in their endless search for Frisk. He was terrified of the reality she could be dead. She had filled the hole Chara had left and now she could very well have joined her. He didn't want to think of that. Much like Sans had done, he had blocked that reality from entering his mind. 

Now he sat outside in the snow, tucked between two slabs of cobblestone and hidden by a dumpster as he watched Grillby's. 

Sans had a plan. Flowey had to admire the asshole. His intelligence was impressive, especially with the way he carried himself. A brute who carried out his brother's every demand and got drunk every other night? You wouldn't expect him to have a brain at all. But… Sans had a plan. Stake out Grillby's. Follow the suppliers, pinpoint the leaders of the operation, strike accordingly. 

It actually gave Flowey a little bit of hope. 

Hours passed. He started nodding off, a haze of exhaustion and sleepless nights finally hitting him like a train. 

He jolted awake when he heard voices. The bastard was right! Flowey watched anxiously as two monsters jumped out of an armored carriage that was being pulled by an equally intimidating centaur. Grillby came out to meet them, his purple flames flickering in the wind. 

Both Grillby and Flowey watched as the two monsters; strangers to one, associates to the other, unloaded the carriage. Five cases of liquor. 

"Thank you Gentlemen," said Grillby with a curt nod. A gruesome bugbear glared at him and held out his hand for their payment. Grillby rolled his eyes and fished out his wallet. 

"Did you hear, Grillbs? About the boss's new product?" Asked the orc. Flowey's interest was piqued at the mention of a "boss." Grillby tilted his head curiously as he opened a bottle for the three to enjoy. The centaurs huffed at his blatant exclusion. 

"Oh shut up Bill, you're the designated driver," barked the bugbear. Flowey rolled his eyes.  _ Get on with it!  _ He thought. Grillby chuckled and took a drink. 

"What's Julian working on now?" He asked. The orc gave a cruel growl of delight.  _ Julian? Crap, ok, that's a name! We can work with that!  _

"Something you'd be interested in sellin' maybe. Maybe it'll keep your whore's in check." Flowey's leaves shriveled at the words. Sickos. 

"Just spit it out. What is it?" He asked. The bugbear grinned an ugly smile. 

"He's calling it Reclusion. It's a drug. Supposed to be a real money maker. He went to get it approved by you know who today but we haven't got the go ahead yet," he said with a knowing grin. Grillby rolled his eyes. 

"I can't believe he lets that bitch walk all over him," he grumbled. The orc and bugbear shifted uncomfortably. 

"Yeah… she is pretty scary though," murmured the centaur. The orc groaned. 

"Shut up Bill—" 

"—Yeah we need to go." Flowey watched as they abandoned their drinks and jumped back into the carriage. Grillby shook his head as the dealers fled. As if whoever they had been talking about was just behind the corners ready to pounce. 

Grillby sighed and finished his drink before throwing the glass at the dumpster. Flowey yelped with shock, which drew the bartender's attention. 

"Who's there?" He growled, unsheathing a switchblade from his coat. Flowey's beady eyes went wide and he quickly pulled himself underground by his roots. 

⁂

  
  


"Julian? Well that's a huge lead," said Sans when Flowey arrived back home. Flowey beamed with pride at his triumph. They were one step closer to finding Frisk… If there was a Frisk left to find. 

Sans shoved past Papyrus as the three made their way downstairs to the basement to talk to the Jersey Devil, who's name they had found out was Anthony. Sans hadn't spoken to Papyrus except when work needed to be done with Anthony or the rock dwarf, Grant. It was a strange way of punishing his little brother for their circumstances. Papyrus sighed and followed behind Sans.

"Alright Anthony, I've got a question for ya," said Sans, Flowey perched on his shoulder. Papyrus made his way over to a rack of tools and picked out a barbed wire rope. 

"When don't you?" Sneered Anthony. Sans considered him. He was tired of this idiot. Holes had been cut in his wings, he had several of his teeth and fingers removed. There was a part of Sans who knew Frisk would've been horrified by this. A twinge of guilt stung his soul. There had to be another way to do this. He was forced to be good at torture—the job required it— but… he wanted to be a better person. For her. He glanced at Flowey from the corner of his eye. 

"Does the name Julian ring a bell?" He asked. Anthony's eyes shifted, a nervous sweat beading up on his brow. 

"It does, doesn't it… I have a proposition for you," said Sans as Papyrus unwrapped the coil of wire. Anthony bared his teeth at them as the brothers considered each other. A wordless agreement passed between them. Despite their present resentment, they still understood each other's basic desires. That's just what came with being siblings. 

"What could you possibly give me other than another broken bone?" He spat. Sans spared a look at Flowey and then at Papyrus. A flicker of understanding passed through each of them. 

"My brother and I haven't been very hospitable lately, have we?" Grunted Papyrus. Anthony's ears flattened at the soft tone. 

"I—"

"You've been awfully  _ unresponsive _ , in a terribly annoying fashion. You are testing our patience. We had half the mind to kill you and start from scratch. Just another body to be used and disposed of once they've served or refused to serve their purpose. Such is the tragic cycle of the Underground. However… after careful consultation with my brother, we decided to offer you a way out," uttered Papyrus. Anthony snorted. Part of Sans couldn't help but agree with him. The Gaster brothers actually giving someone a second option other than pain and death? They had a reputation to uphold, didn't they? 

"So we can do this two ways. They all end the same, but  _ one  _ works in your favor," growled Sans. Papyrus nodded in agreement before he wrapped the rope around Anthony's neck and squeezed. Anthony's eyes bulged as the barb's cut into his skin. Sans leaned in. 

"Let me give you two hypotheticals," he murmured as Anthony choked underneath him. Flowey gulped and turned his eyes away. 

"Scenario  _ one.  _ You keep being an asshole. We rip your wings off and hang them up in Hotland for everyone to see. It's a message to your good pal Julian who… hasn't done anything to help you. And then, you keep being an asshole, so…  _ so  _ sooner or later we hang  _ you _ up in Hotland. Then, we find Julian. Because we will. We'll tear that damn city apart if we have to, but we'll find him. And then, well, then it's Julian's turn and so on and so on. You die. So tragic. And I bet you were expecting that and preparing for that… but now I'm gonna tell you scenario two." Sans sockets were black as he stared into Anthony's eyes. Stared into his  _ soul.  _ Papyrus tightened the wires around Anthony's throat, the only way to keep him from interrupting. 

"Scenario  _ two.  _ You tell us where to find Julian… and we will let you and your little rock dwarf friend go. But that's not even the best part. My friend here, the daffodil, has healing magic. I know,  _ rare.  _ So we'll heal you of all the afflictions we've caused, because, let's face it, ya look like shit. Then after we've set you free, we'll make sure Julian and his thugs don't go after you for snitchin'. Do you see the positive outcome? Do you see what's in it for you? If not, I hate to break it to ya, but you're an idiot. Medically speaking… so, which hypothetical scenario better suits you?" Papyrus put slack on Anthony's neck, the Jersey Devil gulping in large quantities of air as if he were a castaway who was just given fresh water. He choked and sputtered before gritting his teeth. 

"What is it about this fuckin' human that's got your dick in a twist!?" Papyrus growled and jerked his hand, the barbs cutting deeper into his flesh. Anthony's eyes went wide and his nostrils flared as he struggled to see a world without him in it. Sans looked at Flowey and sighed. 

"Well… it looks like you chose Scenario  _ one—"  _

"—Fuck! I didn't mean it!" They paused and both Sans and Papyrus considered him as he ran over his options. Sans could tell the only reason he had been so avid about keeping this information to himself was out of fear of whoever this Julian was and acceptance that he was going to die anyway. 

"This is so…" he mulled over his options. Tell the brothers about Julian or not? He reasoned with himself. He came to a conclusion, a subtle light flickering in his mind. He could get out of this  _ and  _ he wouldn't lose too much. After all, Julian was a puppy compared to the bitch that pulled the strings from her ebony tower. Not that either Sans or Papyrus knew that. 

"Alright… fine…  _ fine.  _ You win. Julian is a Kitsune, he runs the drug cartel. He's about, what, fifty? Yeah. He lives in the Capitol—"

"—Where?" Anthony flinched at the tiger-like snarl that had escaped Sans's mouth. For such a humanoid monster, he certainly had his bestial tendencies. 

"The Historical district. I don't know anything else, I just used to play cards with his driver," he explained. Sans narrowed his eyes. He was being surprisingly  _ helpful _ after a week and a half of nothing but trouble. It was too good to be true. 

It was Flowey, not Sans, who protested, an angry gleam in his eye. 

"Listen dirtbag!" His roots shot out and snagged Anthony's jersey. Papyrus's eye sockets widened as Flowey dragged him forth in the chair. The barbed wire tightened around Anthony's neck and he wheezed. 

"You don't know Frisk, so I wouldn't expect you to care—but she is the single most kind, understanding and compassionate person I have ever known in my entire life. She's helped a lot of people, she has a lot of friends that would lay down their lives for her, including me. If we lose that light… there's no hope for us down here. The king will continue to slaughter us and we'll continue to let hate fester in our souls…  _ The point is,  _ if you're lying about this or if you're knowingly holding something back… I won't hesitate to make your life  _ miserable."  _ Anthony's eyes widened as Flowey's already grotesque face distorted; his beady, black eyes twitching and glowing with a deeper fire. An echo of his past self. 

"I… I'm not. I'm telling you everything I know just…  _ brick house.  _ Brick house in the Capitol's historical district," he said desperately. Sans narrowed his eyes. He knew Anthony was withholding information, but he knew he wouldn't get anything else from him. He knew that the only reason he told him who Julian  _ was  _ and where to find him was because there was a much higher force to be afraid of—and because he had been promised a way out. 

Papyrus released him from the barbed wire and stalked back to the wall of tools. Sans stood still, watching Anthony as Flowey let his healing magic flow out from his leaves and extend to Anthony's battered and broken body. Anthony tensed up and let out a scream of agony. 

Healing magic was always painful. It sped up the natural process a body took to recover and rebuild. The wounded could feel every muscle regrow in fast forward. 

It was very rare someone had the gift. It was usually acquired by people who had suffered a loss so devastating that they internalized their need to save so much that it became physical. There was always a part of Sans that was secretly glad he had never acquired the skill. The kind of pain he had gone through was a lot, but it hadn't become part of his soul. He had effectively barred that from happening. 

He tried not to think about what could've possibly happened to the little flower that granted him such power. He tried to focus his attention back on Anthony as he screamed and writhed in his seat. His wounds closed, leaving white scars across his body. In a way, it was its own form of torture, and Sans took some cruel delight in watching someone who had hurt Frisk, and given him so much grief, suffer… even if they  _ were _ technically healing him. 

"Alright… tomorrow we're going to take a little walk to Julian's house and then you'll be off scott-free," purred Sans with satisfaction. Anthony's eyes widened. 

"Hey that wasn't part of the deal, you made a promise!" Sans chuckled darkly at the accusation. 

"Tony… I didn't promise anything…" he growled, before leading his brother out of the room. After all, Papyrus may have been the lieutenant of the Royal Guard, but at the end of the day,  _ Sans  _ was the guy who might just kill ya. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Aye, Anthony makes it out ok. No one tell Frisk they tortured him tho. 👀
> 
> Up Next: Frisk and her new body guard visit the Graffiti Alley. 
> 
> Also, a bit of a small announcement. I've been pretty bogged down with my projects as of late, and am a bit behind on writing. I'm going to be slowing down my updates to Saturdays only in order to catch up on all my work and creative projects. Love you guys!


	46. Dreamers Not Dreemurs

Chapter Forty-Six: Dreamers Not Dreemurs 

* * *

"Dearie, come downstairs!" Called Muffet. Frisk was nose deep in a book as she circled words that created some kind of journal to her. She didn't trust that Muffet wouldn't go through a diary of sorts. She circled every mention of angels, control, alcohol or death. It made sense to her mind. Depending on the color she used to circle the word, it meant different things to her. She hoped it would evade Muffet's notice. 

Sometimes she would write a jumbled combination of French and Italian in the margins to piece together her thoughts. Most of her notes were about the things she had noticed about Muffet's business, or about the king. She wrote a lot of notes about the quiet, menacing men that came into Muffet's house. She also made a lot of notes about Muffet's habits. Like how she liked to count the worth of everything she owned. 

She slowly closed the book and put her pens away. She debated on if she should bring the mask, but decided against it. Muffet wouldn't call her if it wasn't safe. Besides, most of her more trusted associates seemed to already know everything about her... And as worrying as that was, Frisk couldn't deny that not having to suffocate behind those masks day in and day out had its perks. 

As she traipsed downstairs, ignoring Shelob as she went, she heard two voices talking. Muffet and a strange man. Although, the more she listened, the more familiar it sounded. Frisk rounded the corner and entered the living room. 

There was Alexander dressed in a silk, black suit and black tie. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she waved. It was nice to see a friendly face. He waved back.

"I have hired Alexander as your part time bodyguard while I'm away. I want you to get some fresh air," said Muffet. Frisk's eyes sparkled and she nodded. Now was the perfect opportunity to go back to the graffiti alley and find clues that could lead her to the Angelicans.

She stifled her excitement and bowed her head to Muffet. Muffet smiled back and buttoned up her coat. 

"I must be off now, take care of her, Alexander," she crooned, her voice edged with warning. Alexander nodded curtly before he turned to Frisk and scrutinized her. The door slammed shut, leaving them alone. 

"It's good to be around a friendly face like you. I feel like I've been walking on eggshells. Let me go get ready, I have somewhere I want to go. This works perfectly, thank you!" She rambled as she grabbed a muffin. Alexander chuckled and nodded curtly. 

She raced upstairs to get ready. Unlike with the brothers, Muffet had an array of outfits for her and several different masks. Today she went with a matte black mask that covered her entire face. She threw on a t-shirt, boot cut jeans and a black windbreaker. Frisk liked dressing casually if she could help it, even when Muffet was the Pinnacle of fashion. 

As Frisk descended the stairs, she ran her fingers through her hair in a poor attempt to brush it. It was getting frustratingly long, and she would probably cut it back to her chin soon. She didn't like it when it got past her collar bone. Four months of neglect had unfortunately put some length on it. It wasn't doing her any favors. 

Once she joined Alexander, they left. One thing she had come to like about her routine in the Underworld was that she didn't have to fuss over makeup. The masks she was forced to wear rendered makeup completely useless. Her skin was looking clearer for it, and her time wasn't wasted applying it. 

Alexander flagged down a black cab for them and the centaurs pulled it to a stop. 

"Where to?" Asked a centaur. Alexander looked to Frisk and she pursed her lips in thought. She couldn't just say,  _ "oh you know, that one alleyway filled with Graffiti."  _ Her eyes lit up as the thought struck her. 

"Delta Bank." The centaurs nodded curtly and Alexander helped her into the carriage. They were off and Frisk looked out the window as she traced the buildings they sped past. 

"Making a withdrawal?" He asked. Frisk shook her head. She didn't feel the need to lie to Alexander, but she wasn't going to tell him her methods to her madness. Sometimes it did really feel like she was going mad here. 

"We'll be going to a… an illegal gallery of sorts." Alexander shot her a puzzled look and she smirked. They sat in silence for the rest of the drive as Alexander mulled over what she had told him. 

When the cab came to a slow, Alexander paid the fare and they got off. He pointed up at the stairs and Frisk shook her head. She proceeded to lead him down the street. Just two blocks down. She tried not to think about that day. The flirtatious looks and conversations, the shared jokes and belly-aching laughter. She shoved all those memories deep inside and focused on the pictures painted on the walls that awaited her. 

Music swelled as they made their way through the labyrinth of alleys. Alexander's eyes widened as he realized where they were. Frisk rounded the corner and faltered when she saw the small crowd of young monsters. A stereo had been set up and they were making a circle around dancers.  _ Oh my God this is amazing!  _

The alley was filled with electrifying energy. Graffiti artists were practically stacked on top of each other as they helped paint the walls. 

"Are you sure this is where—" she cut him off with a wave of her hands and watched the dancers with a sparkle in her eyes. The music was loud and fast. She had never danced hip hop before, but she had always wanted to. It looked so fun from where she stood. Everyone was cheering as two girls moved together in perfect synchronicity. It was fast and loose, Frisk could hardly keep up as she watched. 

"This is amazing," she breathed. She had never felt more alive than she was right then. For a second, she could forget her worries and heart ache.  _ Remember why you came.  _ She nodded curtly at the voice of reason in her head and she went to the walls. There had to be a clue here somewhere. She hoped nothing important had been painted over. It did in fact seem like everything had shifted and new pictures were added. 

The cat on the moon had been replaced by a dragon igniting a sunrise, and Free Speech had been painted over as a grave of hanging men and a bonfire. A morbid reminder that the Purge was still very alive and haunted everyone's subconscious. 

Everything was painted over and she began to feel a little hopeless until she saw a familiar blue flower. Silver words spiraled around it. The one thing that wasn't changed. Her eyes widened. Her hunch had been correct!  _ This  _ was the clue.  _ Angels are found in small acts.  _ She glanced at Alexander and pointed at the flower. 

"What is this?" She asked. Alex scrutinized the art before he grunted and glanced at the break dancers. Some people were sparing them curious looks. He didn't want to attract attention. People talked. 

"I believe it's an echo flower. They're abundant in Waterfall. I'm not exactly sure why or how, but they repeat phrases. They're very popular gifts and there's actually an Echo festival in Ghost Town during the summer. It's probably the more fun of holidays down here… why?" He asked. Frisk nodded along before she shrugged nonchalantly.  _ An echo flower? It repeats phrases… if this is the password, then…  _ She gasped as she connected the dots.  _ That's the password! Angels are found in small acts! It's echoed to each other! The flowers, maybe they lead to the hideout, or… something, I don't know.  _

"Ok… I need to go to Waterfall then," she murmured. Alexander shot her a look. 

"Muffet never told me you were allowed to leave the Capitol," he said sternly. Frisk rolled her eyes. She was really getting tired of being told what she could and couldn't do. 

"Muffet's not my mom. You don't have to take me, I'll find a way to get there myself… but it would be much more pleasant if you came along for the ride. I would enjoy having a friend. I've been so lonely as of late. I know right now you're technically working, but I'd like to consider this hanging out. So… please?" She laced her voice in honey and leaned against his arm affectionately. It was the easiest thing to do to get her way. People liked feeling like they had worth.

Alexander frowned at her and crossed his arms. She pursed her lips. She'd make him crack. It was one of the things she was best at. 

"But Muffet is  _ my  _ boss—"

"—She never said we couldn't leave the city. We'll be back before she knows… besides, what she doesn't know can't hurt her," she purred. He flicked his ear in thought. She was frustratingly alluring and knew exactly how to wrap people around her little finger. 

"Fine, but we can't take too much time… it'll be quite the long ride. Why do you have to go to Waterfall?" He asked. Frisk gave a cheeky salute to one of the break dancers and they waved back at her. 

"I just have something I want to take care of. It's super important to me. I was so scared I wouldn't be able to do it, but… now I can. All thanks to you, Alexander. You're my hero," she said. Alexander smiled softly. She could tell he didn't get a lot of praise. On one hand, she was playing him like a fiddle, on the other hand, she really did enjoy having the company. She missed her old friends dearly, and she was willing to trust anyone to fill that void. Alexander was a sweet guy who was trying his best to survive, just like her. In a way, he was a hero. 

Her attention was snatched as one of the girls who had been dancing jumped up onto a man's shoulders and raised her arms. She was a fire imp much like Grillby. Her flames were bright green and she had a promising look in her bright white eyes. 

"I don't know about the rest of you, but to me, this place is alive!" The crowd of young monsters cheered. She flared at the uproar, a blistering white smile growing on her face. Frisk felt her soul burning with a warm comradery. 

"We are all alive! Our ideas, our minds, our  _ souls.  _ We are all here, and King Dreemur can't take that away from us! He may be a Dreemur, but he's not a  _ dreamer. We  _ are the dreamers, and he won't crush us. No matter how many Purges, or how many prisons he tries to throw us into. We are the future. You can't stop the future. The future is here. The future is  _ alive."  _ Frisk's eyes welled up as she listened to the girl. The words filled her with rekindled determination and her soul pulsed red. 

Frisk watched as a couple of artists began to paint something together. A blue flower on fire, the flames bright green. Big, smokey letters spelled,  _ Dreamers Not Dreemurs!  _ Another blue flower. An  _ echo  _ flower. Were they Angelicans? 

"Hey, I've never seen you here before," said the other girl who had been dancing with the fire imp. Frisk knew exactly what kind of monster she was. A tiefling. A  _ real  _ tiefling with a devil's tail, two pairs of horns and magenta skin. Her scleras were completely black and her irises were red. The only thing they had in common were the horns. 

"Oh…Yeah, I—"

"—We love new people! Everyone in the Underground needs to hear Agni's message. Pretty powerful stuff right?" She asked. Frisk nodded curtly and glanced at Alexander as he narrowed his eyes down at her. 

"Agni… is that her name?" She asked, pointing to the fire imp. The tiefling nodded enthusiastically. 

"She's great right? Learned from the best! I would say his name but…"  _ The leader! Oh what did Nick say his name was? Something with a G. Grayson? No… no it was something weirder than that.  _ For the life of her she couldn't think of it. 

"Do you guys know a guy named Nick? He's a bunny, blue fur?" She asked. She was going out on a limb. Alexander shook his head, completely at a loss for what Frisk was doing. The girl's eyes brightened. 

"You know Nick?  _ The  _ Nick?" She asked. Agni came up behind them, Frisk could feel the heat radiating off of her body. 

"Who are you talking to, Destiny?" Asked Agni.  _ Destiny  _ smiled at them.

"New comers," she said. Agni narrowed her eyes at Frisk and Alexander, and a flicker of remembrance passed over her face. 

"Holy shit, it's  _ Moxie.  _ You were the chick that yelled at Lieutenant Papyrus on  _ live television."  _ Frisk blushed and looked away. She really wished people would forget about that. She hated it when anyone ever brought it up. Agni shot Destiny a skeptical look and Destiny's eyes widened. Being affiliated with the brothers was really starting to ruin her life. 

"Oh… I shouldn't have said anything—"

"—I'm not with them anymore! I want to help… what do I need to do to become one of you?" Agni's eyes widened and she looked around as a hush fell over the crowd of young monsters. Destiny frowned and looked at her friend. Agni scrutinized Frisk, sizing her up for all she was worth. 

"I can't tell you much…not here anyway. Um, if you really want to help, if you  _ really  _ want to become one of us…and know I'm only telling you because you know Nick… There's an initiation during the Echo Festival in Ghost Town. It's completely discreet. For more information… Mama Loa’s Vodou Emporium. That's all I can say. Everything else is up to you," she said cryptically. Frisk nodded slowly in thought. Of course. Nothing was allowed to be easy.  _ Can you blame them? They're being hunted down by the King. The fact they're telling you anything is a miracle.  _ She was thankful she knew Nick.  _ I guess the brothers  _ did _ open some doors for me. Door number one; Nick.  _

"Thank you… really," she whispered. Agni nodded curtly, before a whistle sounded off. Alexander's nostrils flared and he put a hand in front of Frisk in an attempt to shield her. 

_ "Shit," _ spat Agni. 

"SCATTER!" Screamed Destiny. The crowds scurried down the alleys like cockroaches to light. Frisk gasped as Alexander hoisted her into his arms. He charged the couple of guards with a great bellow, and they dove out of the way. 

Frisk's heart was racing as he sprinted down the alleys and out into the street. She screamed as he charged across the street, several carriages screeching to a stop as he passed. He raced down three blocks before he finally came to a slow and let her down. 

When it was safe to assume they were out of harm's way, Frisk let out a sigh. She certainly hoped everyone got away safely. Alexander probably gave those guards quite the fright. The thought was enough to make her laugh. 

Alexander shot her a bemused look. She certainly was a strange creature. No one he had ever worked for acted like her. Most of them took themselves much too seriously. Here Frisk was, cackling her ass off in the face of grave danger. He smiled softly. He knew this must've been the first time she was letting herself actually have fun.

"That was terrifying!" She wheezed as they meandered down the street. Alexander snorted with laughter at her and he shook his head in quiet disbelief. 

"If we had been arrested, Muffet would have my head," he grumbled. Frisk snickered and nodded along. 

"I don't doubt that for a second," she said matter of factly. Alexander rolled his eyes playfully. His eyes darkened when he remembered the subject of which Frisk had been speaking with those young women. 

"Frisk… what are you planning?" He asked. He had an idea. Echo flowers whispering about Angels, secret, illegal protests against the king, rumors of unnamed leaders. Every arrow pointed to the martyr group, the Angelicans. 

"You guard labyrinths right?" She murmured as she hugged her arms close. Alexander's ear twitched in thought. 

"I do have the gift, so yes," he said. Frisk stalled, watching him. She wanted so badly to let herself drop her guard. She'd been so exhausted, and she suspected it was due to feeling like she had to dance on eggshells and tiptoe on a tightrope of secrets. 

"Well, think of this," she pointed to her head, "as a labyrinth… I need you to guard it for me. Do you think you could do that? It could be our little secret. Muffet can't know.  _ No one  _ can know," she said firmly. Alexander's nostrils flared at the demand. Something about her made him want to give her everything. She had no reason to trust him or even like him, with what she'd been through. He didn't know everything, but he knew what Muffet had disclosed to Julian. 

"Why are you trusting me with this?" He asked. Frisk bit her lip as she thought up an answer. She really didn't know. She shrugged helplessly. 

"I guess I'm just tired. I need…  _ I need  _ someone on my side right now." That was the truth. She didn't have Flowey, she didn't have Doug, or Charlotte, or Bonnie. She didn't have the Gaster brothers. She was hopelessly alone, and it was overwhelming. 

Alexander's eyes softened and he bowed his head to her. 

"Your secret is mine to guard," he said softly. Frisk couldn't help but feel a lump grow in her throat. She rested her head against his stomach in a tired hug. He patted her back with cautious affection. 

"Do you still need to go to Waterfall?" He asked as they continued down the street. Frisk pursed her lips in thought. That day had been incredibly informative. An initiation during the Echo Festival, meeting Agni and Destiny. Mama Loa’s Vodou Emporium. She didn't know when she'd get an opportunity like this again. 

Just as she was about to answer, Alexander's pager beeped. She gave a defeated sigh as he held up a finger and looked at the message blinking on the screen. 

_ -Bring her home.-  _ He sighed. A part of him had actually been excited about taking her to Waterfall. She swallowed her frustration, and the words that came with it. Sometimes it felt like she had traded one master for an even worse one. The words of Flowey jolted through her mind. 

_ "I know you want to get away from Sans and Papyrus, but you don't want to give up one master in favor of another."  _ She missed Flowey terribly. Having Flowey with her would've made this all a hundred times easier. He had never failed her trust. Thinking of Flowey made her wonder what he was doing. Was he still with the brothers? Was he looking for her? What if he was helping the brothers look for her? She frowned at the thought. 

Frisk glanced up and shook herself out from her melancholic thoughts. 

"Next time… hey, the fact that I even got this far is astounding. Thank you," she said as he flagged down another cab. He smiled at her. 

"It is an honor," he said. As he helped Frisk into the carriage and told the driver where they were headed, a question struck her. She waited until he was in the carriage before she spoke.

"The real question is… why are you being so nice to me?" She asked. Alexander frowned as he thought up a good answer. 

"I suppose it's because you're a breath of fresh air compared to my other jobs," he said quietly. Frisk squeezed his hand and leaned against the window. She was reminded of what Nick had told her. 

_ "Just keep trying to help in little ways…" _

Kindness was a breath of fresh air in this place. It made hell just a little bit more bearable.  _ Angels are found in small acts…  _

  
  
  


⁂

Muffet was there when they got to the manor, a cool and calculating look on her face. They locked eyes and Frisk could feel herself shrink as Muffet sauntered over to her. 

"You finally arrived. Alexander you are dismissed," she said with a wave of her hand. Alexander narrowed his eyes. He almost protested before he thought better of it and bowed his head instead. Frisk was almost disgusted by the control Muffet had over everyone. There had to be a reason people were so scared of her. 

_ "They don't call her the black widow for no'fin'."  _

"What's going on?" She asked. Muffet smiled graciously at her and led her into her study. Frisk glanced at the clock. It was six o'clock. She hadn't realized she had been gone for so long. 

"You have three hours to get ready," she said. Frisk quirked a quizzical brow. Get ready for what? Muffet really couldn't expect her to read her mind, or did she? Muffet noticed the puzzled look on her face and scoffed in quiet frustration. Who knew taking in a human would be like potty training a puppy? 

"Mettaton wanted to have dinner with you," she said simply as she brushed Frisk's hair off of her shoulder. Frisk glanced down at the tendril of brown hair and frowned at the move. It was strangely motherly and didn't sit well with her. 

Some part of her was drawn to it. Her mother had, after all, walked out on her when she was too young to remember. She didn't like to think she had any mental problems because of it though. She rejected the move and stepped back. She reminded herself that it wasn't motherly. It was condescending. 

Then her words barreled into her like a train.  _ Mettaton!?  _ There was no way she'd willingly have dinner with that entitled prick. 

Muffet seemed to read the protest on her face before she could even say it, and held her hand up to cut her off. 

"I know, I know. I wasn't completely on board either. It's just, he knows you're a human. He found out and he's trying to black mail me," she said, pursing her lips. Frisk narrowed her eyes. She was lying. She knew she was lying. Frisk wasn't an idiot, she knew how to read people. The only person who had ever alluded her sharp mind was Sans. 

_ "If she were one of the deadly sins personified, she'd be greed."  _ Sans's warning flickered through her head and a light clicked on. Her soul burned with an audacious determination. 

"Oh really? Is that really what happened? Or was this business. Am I a product now?" Muffet frowned at the accusation slung at her. She had to admit that the girl was clever. 

"You know, Frisk… it's refreshing to have such an intelligent young woman to share my home with. Usually I'm surrounded by incompetent idiots who are nowhere near my level. I don't want to clash with you. Two clever women clashing? Can only lead to disaster." It was a threat hidden in empty flattery. Frisk knew that much. She wouldn't be bought by empty flattery and she wouldn't be scared by threats. A small voice in her head warned her to keep her mouth shut. Play the game. Just like she had with the brothers. Just like she had with Damian.  _ I don't want to play this game anymore. It's exhausting.  _

"I don't want to go to dinner with Mettaton. I don't like the way he treats his employees. I don't like the way his female employees fear him. I am not going—"

"—I completely agree. He's abhorrent, but he does know you're a human. I'm not responsible if he talks. He likes to talk a lot, and he doesn't say the most helpful of things. It would help us both if you just went to dinner with him. I won't let him do anything but talk and eat. If he lays one finger on you, I'll dismember his precious new body," she said. Frisk clenched her jaw. Bargaining. 

_ "Every good relationship has a give and a take."  _ Muffet had been very clear that she'd have to earn her keep. She  _ couldn't  _ keep moping around or sneaking behind her back to find the Angelicans. Muffet was growing annoyed with her. She wanted her to pull her weight.  _ Just suck it up. Think of it like this, you can get the scoop out of him and add it to your repertoire of information to give the Angelicans. Find the silver lining.  _

With that final thought, she sighed and nodded.  __

"Just dinner," she said. Muffet gave her a triumphant smile and bowed her head. 

"Just dinner…Now get ready. This whole spiff has taken time out of our schedule," she said. As Frisk turned away, Muffet cleared her throat and rustled through her purse. 

"Oh, dearie… I want you to bleach and dye your hair. Shouldn't take too long. You know, because the brothers are looking for you and… it's just one more layer of discretion," she crooned as she held out the bottle of hair dye. Frisk gritted her teeth and snatched it away. The two stared each other down before Frisk backed away and jogged up to her room. 

She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair had definitely gotten much too long for her. She wanted to cut it off. At least back to a manageable length. She had cut her own hair before, countless times. But dyeing her hair? She knew it had nothing to do with discretion and everything to do with some twisted fantasy about how humans were supposed to look. Maybe Mettaton watched a lot of stupid Marilyn Monroe movies. 

She didn't want to make tonight easy for Mettaton. She wanted to give him hell. Show him that humans weren't pets. That  _ she  _ wasn't a toy to be played with. She was a force of nature. She had determination, and she was determined to make that entitled megalomaniac suffer. Even angels could play dirty. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One, Alexander is on my good boy list. Two, Frisk has bleached hair now. Pulled a whole Norma Jean—Marilyn Monroe on 'em. 
> 
> Up Next: The dinner date. 
> 
> Also if you guys are enjoying this story, please do give feedback through your bookmarks, recs and comments. They're greatly appreciated and cherished. My Tumblr is up and you can interact with these characters, ask them questions, request what ifs and submit fanart! Thank you all for your support and love. See ya next weekend!


	47. Just Dinner

Chapter Forty-Seven: Just Dinner 

* * *

A knock at his office door. Mettaton jolted and looked up with newfound excitement. It was in fact, nine o'clock. Was Muffet here with her little pet? 

"Do come in, dahling!" He crooned. The door creaked open and he narrowed his eyes when he saw Dr. Alphys instead. How disappointing. 

"Oh, it's you," he sneered as he leaned against his desk boredly. Alphys's eyes were wide, her body shaking. She didn't look good at all. 

He watched as Alphys nervously readjusted her turtleneck.  _ Ugh that looks terrible on her. She should read a magazine for once in her life and take some notes.  _

"I don't have all day, what do you need?" He barked. She clenched her jaw as she sat down. 

"Well… I— I was hoping I could… I could have a friend." Mettaton sighed softly. She had really become a pathetic little thing. He couldn't help but feel pity for the little creature, even though her mere association with him was an embarrassment. If she weren't important to the king, he would've ditched her a long time ago. 

"What's wrong, dahling?" He asked, trying to feign interest. Alphys pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder. 

"Everything.  _ Everything _ is wrong—"

"—Why are you coming to me about this and not your Triton girlfriend, hm? Shouldn't she be the one playing therapist for you?" He asked with a bored yawn. Alphys swallowed her protest. 

"I don't… I don't want to—to be a burden. She's done… she's done so much for—for me and I—"

"—Alphie, if you're crawling to me, you need something so just spit it out. Did Undyne take all your… medication?" He asked. That ought to make her happy. It would also make Muffet happy. 

Alphys frowned. She had been trying to go clean. Her work had become so stressful though. She needed some way to relax. Undyne didn't understand that. She didn't understand the sheer horrors she had to deal with everyday, and Alphys wasn't even about to try and make her understand. 

She glanced up at Mettaton and gave a weak nod. He nodded along, almost as if he were mocking her. He glanced down at his desk. Muffet had given him a sample of her new product; Reclusion. 

"You're in luck. I happen to have a new…  _ prescription _ for you, doctor," he said as he opened his drawer. 

"Really? Oh God, that… that would really help." Mettaton nodded with mock sympathy. He only kept her around because she had built this humanoid body for him, and she only kept him around to enable her addiction. He believed it was a substantial relationship. He was fabulous, and she was relaxed from a stressful day's work. 

"I do have to make this quick. I have a dinner date and I don't want you around when she arrives," he said as he pulled out the briefcase. Alphys frowned at the blatant putdown. She really wished she didn't have to keep doing this. She hoped Undyne never found out. Undyne always told her that her "friendship" with Mettaton was nothing but toxic, and then there was the obvious addiction. Things were just so hard. She  _ needed  _ this. So she'd put up with the robot. 

Alphys watched as he plucked a vial from the briefcase. A violin was engraved in the glass, and the murky, brown liquid glistened in the light. She reached for it only for him to snatch it away. 

She clenched her jaw, eyes trained on the vial as he screwed an attachment onto the glass. It looked like a spider, the needle making up the pincers that would inject the "venom" into the user's system. A clever design for a drug called "Reclusion." He plopped it into a plastic bag and handed it to her.

"I'll give it to you for free as a thank you for this stunning body," he said. She smiled graciously. He grimaced. Those fangs. That hulking,  _ monster  _ body, her scales. Nothing about her was pretty, not like a human. He didn't want her in his office for another second. 

"Thank you Mettaton," she murmured. He nodded and waved her out. She hesitated at the door, a frown growing on her face. She hated going behind Undyne's back like this. She had to though. She'd go insane if she didn't have this. With that final thought, she took her drug and left Mettaton alone. She tried to blink away her tears. She hoped no one would notice her. 

Alphys shuffled timidly down the gilded corridors of the resort, her eyes trained on the floor. She hadn't even noticed the women sauntering down the hall until she crashed into one. Her eyes widened with horror. 

"I'm so sorry!" She cried, shielding herself as if expecting a blow. 

"Watch where you're going!" Spat a hissing voice. 

"No it's fine. I'm fine. It's ok." Alphys looked up to see a small, petite woman right next to  _ the  _ Ms. Muffet. She immediately recognized her as Moxie Valentine, it wasn't hard to, even with the blonde hair. She almost choked. 

"I'm sorry, ha—have a good… a good day!" She said hastily as she raced past them. 

Frisk watched her, a sorrowful glint in her eyes. She almost raced after the woman in a desperate attempt to escape this dinner date she was forced to be on. One of Muffet's many arms pulled her after her. The idea of escape was quickly snuffed out. 

She'd have to power through this. That mere thought was exhausting… but she’d have to do it. She knew what she was going to do. She didn’t care if Muffet screamed at her for the entire rest of the night for making Mettaton’s night awful. She wasn’t going to play nice, and she was going to be very nosy. Not in that particular order. 

They were brought to a quiet rooftop that had been dressed up a bit too extravagantly. Flowers were everywhere. The smell of roses was overbearing. Aromatic candles covered every surface that wasn’t covered by flowers. It was obnoxious. 

Frisk was a romantic… but this wasn’t at all romantic. Romance was cooking together, dancing lazily in the living room to a favorite song, singing at the top of your lungs together as the radio blared your favorite song. At least, that’s the kind of romance that mattered to her, that was just the romance that came with love. Not prepackaged, obnoxious,  _ materialistic  _ romance. That was just money. She  _ hated  _ it. It’s what Damian would shove down her throat to prove he still cared about her. A lie he told her one day out of the year; it was not real. 

Her frown soured as she was pushed forward. She felt like she had gone backwards. All the progress she had made redefining herself was crumbling around her, and all it took to shake that in her was an explosion of roses and candles that dragged her back to the dark depths of her memory. It felt like a tactical ambush meant to paralyze her. Catch her off guard. 

Then she reminded herself that Mettaton didn’t know anything about her and he was an obnoxious show boat  _ robot _ . 

“Well he has certainly out done himself. Feel flattered, he’s usually not this… romantic,” said Muffet. Frisk twitched at the implication. If she had been her old self, she would’ve told herself she wasn't worth this kind of attention. Some part of her still whispered that lie. The part of her that was forever trapped in the dark streets of Lyon. Then there was the strong, determined part of her that said  _ no.  _ She was worth  _ more  _ than this obnoxious show of wealth. She told herself that this insulted her and everything she truly cared about. And she was right. 

So instead of letting herself crumble and freeze up, she pushed forward and held her chin up. She got angry instead of scared. 

Then she realized she was all alone again. Muffet had slipped away and there were no waiters or waitresses. A smell of heavy cologne hit her like a heavy fog and her mask was lifted off her face. She gasped as the move, her hand darting up to snag the precious item, before another hand stopped her. The move of control sent an icy shock down her spine. It was so  _ wrong _ . 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, face to face, dahling,” crooned Mettaton. Frisk leaned away from him and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

And there he was. Mettaton. Or as he liked to call himself these days, Mettaton Ex. He was as tall as Papyrus, and dressed in a sparkling golden military suit. His body and face was oddly feminine, if not for certain things that pushed him over the line of masculinity. She realized who he reminded her of. Freddie Mercury… but somehow deeply corrupted. With four arms and four eyes that glinted with a sickening gleam as he gazed hungrily at her. 

Here  _ she _ was. A human. Everything he had ever desired.  _ Like what you see, asshole?  _ Something on his mechanical face told her that he did. A shudder crawled down her spine. 

_ "Je préfère être dans l'outback australien sans voiture ni eau plutôt que de rester ici avec tu,"  _ she said, trying to not let her voice be tinted with any emotion. She'd try to put on an air of neutrality. 

"So you speak French. How intriguing…" said Mettaton with excitement as he sat across from her. She locked him in a gaze and tried not to laugh. At least Sans had the wit to know when she was insulting him, even if he had never understood her.  _ Don't start missing him now.  _

She shook herself from the intrusive thoughts. Sans wasn't here, and he'd never be there again. Right now she needed to focus on Mettaton. She had to be sweet enough to make him talk, but horrid enough to make him never want to be around her again. She didn't know how to achieve that goal. 

"I like your hair. Much better than the brown. You're a classic bombshell now. Muffet certainly knows how to make me happy," he crooned. Frisk gritted her teeth and ran a hand through her now bleached hair. She hated it. 

"This is quite the display.  _ Tu es un idiot qui patauge,"  _ she said. Mettaton gazed across at her, his smile growing. 

"Yes, well, I wanted to make a good impression. You truly are the most beautiful thing I've ever set my eyes on, besides myself of course. This…  _ hellhole  _ is filled with ugliness and filth," he said bitterly. Frisk narrowed her eyes calculatively. Should she speak her mind or mindlessly agree with him? He didn't seem like the kind of person who liked to be debated. He wasn't Sans. But…  _ she  _ was Frisk. 

"I think there's beauty everywhere in the Underground…" she trailed off as he interrupted her with a cackle. Mettaton was wheezing over her words.

"Dahling don't lie, you're too pretty to be a liar," he crooned as he took a sip of champagne. She stifled a scowl and instead pursed her lips into a thin line. 

There was beauty in the Underground, and it wasn't offered by Mettaton. There was beauty in a small flower coloring pictures of gardens. There was beauty in the way Charlotte worked her ass off day in and day out trying to provide for her family. There was beauty in a Minotaur guarding a secret as if it were their labyrinth. There was beauty in Alice trying in all her might to find a way to leave behind the life that dragged her down. There was beauty in the small pockets of the Capitol that spray painted their grievances. There was beauty in two brothers doing everything they could to stop a tyrant so no one would feel weak again.

She stopped herself there, her eyes flooding with tears, and a lump growing in her throat. There was beauty everywhere in the Underground, like flowers that grew between the cracks of asphalt. Weeds and roots clawing and breaking away the rock that stood in its path. Rock that eventually gave out. There was nothing weak about a flower. 

An image of a blue echo flower bloomed in her mind and she let herself smile. Of course. How significant and beautiful and… 

"I can tell my beauty is overwhelming you. This body of mine is quite impressive, I understand. Wouldn't you say it's perfect? I think it improves on the human form in a way. All I need to be complete is a human to match. It's like we were made for each other," he said with a glint in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes and blinked away her tears.  _ What did this fucker just say?  _

"You say that like humans are accessories," she said with a fake sweetness to her voice. He grinned wickedly and leaned over the table, a laughably awful purr escaping him as he eyed her. It was like watching a house cat try to be a tiger. 

She tried not to think of Sans. She tried not to think of the way he purred into her ear or growled against the nape of her neck. She couldn't help it though. Here she was, watching a laughable display of "dominance." She had a creeping suspicion that this gold encrusted TV was awful in bed. 

"You know it's a good thing you're not with those reapers anymore. They were hogging you all to themselves. But now we can be together. It must be such a relief to finally be able to breathe in my presence. Being alone with me is always a treat. Anyone in the Underground would kill for a night alone with me. You must feel so lucky," he said. She hid the look of disgust on her face as she stuffed her mouth with steak.  _ Is he going to stroke his own dick the entire night?  _ For some reason, she heard that thought clearly in Sans's voice, and she snorted with laughter as if he had whispered it into her ear.  _ Jesus Christ, I'm going crazy.  _

"What's so funny?" Asked Mettaton. She shook her head and smiled at him as she cut furiously into her steak. She needed to get this conversation moving into places that would benefit her instead of getting him off to how great he was. 

"Nothing, it's just…you're right. You're… a shining star. You know, I lived on the surface and I've seen sunlight and it really doesn't compare to the way you illuminate the Underground with your light… like, even Asgore let's you do whatever you want," she said. She hated stroking his oversized ego, but how else would she get him to talk? It was obvious he really only liked to talk about himself. Or gossip. 

He brightened at her blatant flattery. She watched him with hidden annoyance as he puffed up his chest. 

"Oh yes, Asgore and I are very close, but don't worry dahling, I won't spill the beans on your true identity," he said. She smiled with faux gratefulness. 

"How close? Like what exactly does he let you get away with?" She asked. Mettaton leaned back in his seat. 

"Oh that doesn't matter much. I just provide information for him sometimes and I tell the people whatever he wants them to hear. They all love me enough to believe whatever I say. The entire Underground eats out of my palm." She ignored his boastful comments and instead focused on the breadcrumbs of information he was giving her. She swallowed her contempt and continued forward. 

"Of course they do, they don't have any other choice, do they? I bet they don't even care if you're giving information to the king. What exactly do you tell him?" She asked as she sipped her wine. He eyed her with an amused suspicion. 

"You're a devilish little minx, aren't you? Is that how you always get your way? Just batting your eyelashes and flattering your prey?" He asked. She tried not to let her newfound panic flood her face, but instead wrinkled her nose and bit her lip playfully. Before she could respond, he reached over and clutched her chin in an iron grip. 

Her eyes went wide and she whimpered as he dragged her over the small table. Now face to face, he grinned a plastic, news anchor grin at her. A shudder ran down her spine as he turned her face this way and that, as if inspecting a show poodle before a competition.

"Dahling,  _ Frisk…  _ flattery will only get you so far," he whispered. Her eyes flared with rage and fear. She knew what the other options would be, and she didn't want to have to go there. 

"Let me go," she said through clenched teeth. He didn't scare her. She had faced much  _ much  _ worse. He tilted his head, news-anchor-smile only growing wider as she challenged him. 

"How very  _ human  _ of you to be so fiesty. Oh how I long to tame that fearsome determination festering in your soul. See, my monster employees do whatever I ask, no questions asked. Sometimes that can get boring. I like a little challenge every now and then, it makes it all the more satisfying when I come out on top," he whispered. 

She wrenched herself out from his grip and stumbled back, knocking down the chair in the process. Her chest heaved with a taut breath. Fuck getting information from him. Her eyes darted to her wine glass and he followed her gaze. Before she could reach it, he snatched it away from her. 

"Sans really rubbed off on you didn't he?" He said with amusement. Watching her desperately try to resist him was like watching a toddler resist their nap time. Eventually she'd succumb. 

She glared at him. 

"Don't talk to me about Sans," she spat. His eyes widened and a smirk grew on his lips. He sat back down and took a long drink from her glass. 

"Oh… I see… You must want to forget about him for good. I can help with that. One night with me and you'll never think about that savage reaper again. I tend to have that effect on people," he purred. She was alarmed to find she was actually growling at him. A growl that was slightly under her breath and lodged in the back of her throat. Sans really had rubbed off on her. 

" _ Va te faire foutre!"  _ She hissed. He quirked a brow at her and stood up. He circled her like a vulture, drinking in the curves of her body and the way her chest was heaving. She was  _ mad.  _ They were always so much more veracious in bed when they were mad. What would a human be like? She was so small. Could she even take it? The thought that she probably couldn't only fueled him. 

"I always get what I want, dahling," he said. She was panicking on the inside. She should've never tried to flatter him. She knew it had been a bad idea, but that was what she knew how to do best! She felt like such an idiot! 

"Muffet said it was just a dinner," she growled as she ducked away from him. Mettaton smirked at her. 

"I don't think you realize how Muffet works—"

"—I do. She's a businesswoman. You didn't pay for that, you paid for a dinner," she said as she desperately tried to regain control. She wanted to cry, she could feel the tears threatening to spill. She wanted to go home. She didn't know where home was anymore. Was home at Muffet's Manor, or in Snowden with the brothers? Or maybe, maybe she wanted to go back  _ home.  _ To when she was a child. To before she had fucked up her life with bad decision after bad decision. She wanted to crawl into her father's arms and stay six years old forever. 

"It's a good thing I brought my wallet then." It was the wrong thing to say. Frisk's soul ignited with a red hot fire and she snapped around to him. She was not going to crumble and curl into a ball. She was going to fight! 

Mettaton's eyes widened with shock as she lunged for a candle and swung at him. She screamed with fury as she swiped at him, the flame flickering in the wind. His other arm grabbed her free hand and spun her on her feet, completely throwing her off balance. 

"Now  _ that's  _ a human," He sang. She thrashed against him, her soul egging her on. She tried to remember the way her soul had stunned and broke through Sans's magic and pushed away her attackers from that night, but the more she chased her own determination, the more it evaded her consciousness and fled into the labyrinth of her mind. 

"I am not your toy!" She screamed as she drove her elbow into his side. A jolt of pain shot up her arm. She had forgotten he was made completely out of metal. She cussed in French as the pain overtook her. 

"Not yet," he purred. He pushed her away and she went careening into the table. Pain flooded her body as she went crashing to the ground. He stood over her and fixed his hair. 

"What is going on here?" Frisk felt a wave of relief crash over her as Muffet stormed the scene. Mettaton paled—if it were even possible for a robot to pale— and made room for her. Frisk staggered to her feet as Muffet made a beeline for her. 

"What did you do to her?" She demanded to know as she pulled her close to make sure she was ok. Frisk shot a smug look at Mettaton. 

"We were just having some fun, Muffet, no harm no foul," he said. Muffet glared at him. 

"That's not what we agreed on," she said as she shielded Frisk.  _ It's ok, you still have allies. Muffet will keep you safe. She's a woman, she's on your side. She's not going to throw you to the wolves.  _

Mettaton spared a look at Frisk. A hungry look. He always got what he wanted. He wanted a taste of humanity. He wasn't going to let this opportunity slip from his hands. 

"I'll pay double. I want to break her in. I want to see just how much determination a human really has," he said. Muffet stood still, unwavering. 

"You shouldn't underestimate Determination Mettaton. It is unbreakable. A monster's will just can't compare. You don't remember Chara…  _ I do. _ " She uttered. Frisk let herself stand tall, and tried to ignore the way her body was shaking.  _ Chara? Why do I remember that name? Toriel…  _

"Triple… and if I remember Asgore's stories correctly, they found a way to stifle her too," he said with a sickening softness. Frisk shook her head and looked at Muffet with pleading eyes. She felt so powerless. 

"Please Muffet, don't let him near me—" Muffet shushed her harshly. A thoughtful look was on her face. She was actually  _ thinking  _ about this. All previous relief was forgotten. Frisk glanced at the ledge of the roof. Would it be easier to just fall? She'd rather fall than be prostituted.  _ Again.  _ God, why the fuck was she moving backwards? 

"Frisk, come here," whispered Muffet. Frisk felt Muffet's arms pull her in. She tensed up. She wanted to run. Run far,  _ far  _ away.  **_Again._ ** She was moving backwards at an alarming speed. Her entire life had been spent running. Old habits died hard. 

"Please,  _ please,"  _ she begged. There was a part of her that wished she was with the brothers instead. She had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire. 

Muffet shook her head. 

"Oh it'll be fine, dearie… don't be so dramatic _."  _ Frisk shook her head, trying to wrench away from Muffet's six hands as the spider woman reassured her and tried to soothe her. Mettaton only watched on with lust-filled eyes. He knew it was only a matter of time. 

"You said you would protect me," she whimpered. Muffet smiled a sweet smile at Frisk, a dangerous glint in her eyes. 

"Oh dearie…  _ I lied _ ," she whispered. Ice crept through Frisk's body as she came to a sickening realization. She had been right, she  _ was  _ just a product. Out from the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of something sharp. She jerked against Muffet's grasp, trying to run—to fight. To be anything  _ but  _ a toy for these elitists to play with.

The needle plunged into her shoulder and she let out a shrill scream of both pain and shock. Her soul flashed red as Muffet held her in a tight embrace. Mettaton grinned wickedly and approached them. 

Frisk gasped for air. She was drowning. Fuck she was  _ drowning!  _ She couldn't breath. Her body grew heavy as if she were trying to swim through a thick sludge. 

Her mind grew hazy as she heard Muffet's soft reassurances and Mettaton's excited giggles. Her vision swam. She slumped into Muffet's arms. Her legs couldn't hold her. The light of her soul was snuffed out as if water had been poured over a fire. 

The lights in her eyes went dull, and her body gave in to the high of Reclusion. 

The last thing she heard was Muffet's sickly sweet voice practically sing,  _ "That'll be eighteen hundred gold."  _ Then… nothing. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *you hear evil laughter from a difference* I have...I've been building up to this particular chapter for awhile... I hope you enjoyed. 😈
> 
> Up Next: Sans and Papyrus go after Julian. 
> 
> If you're enjoying this story, please don't forget to leave a comment. The feedback makes writing this whole thing worth it! Thank you so much for reading this far! See you next Saturday!


	48. Always A Bigger Fish

Chapter Forty-Eight: Always A Bigger Fish 

* * *

_ Asriel. That was his name. A young baphomet with a promising future and family. Asriel's responsibilities were overwhelming and he often went on adventures and hid away in his art studies. A hobby, as his father called it. His father supported his hobbies, after all, the king had a propensity for gardening and a love for tea. However, at the end of the day, that's all they were. Hobbies. Not nearly as important as the duty of ruling the lower classes.  _

_ Both of his parents loved to spoil him and sometimes he found it to be smothering. An only child… It got lonely. The weight of his future crushed him constantly. Sometimes he wanted to disappear.  _

_ His father had always had high expectations. His father didn't smother him as much as his mother. His father let him do his own thing, but when it came down to business, he had a stiff upper lip.  _

_ One night, he had gotten into a fight with his father about the overwhelming responsibilities of his future and how much he hated the expectations his father had for him. He was only fifteen, and oftentimes he felt his fate was unfair.  _

_ He set out after that fight, needing to clear his head. Asriel did that a lot. He had a special place he liked to go. The monastery and Cathedral just past Snowden.  _

_ It was a grand place filled with gardens, sweeping architecture and hardly any people other than priests and monks who swore vows of silence. It had been dedicated as a place of worship to the old gods who had created monsters. The monastery also acted as an archive of sorts for the ancient histories. Asriel could get lost in the tombs of old. He found his people's history to be remarkably interesting. Especially the war between humans and monsters.  _

_ He found humans to be extremely interesting. Their magic, their determination. He admired them, despite what his father said.  _

_ It was that evening when he arrived in the monastery, his mind still racing with the fight he'd had, when he noticed a shift of atmosphere. A lot of the silent priests were very worried about something but they wouldn't say.  _ Ugh, idiotic vows of silence,  _ he thought bitterly.  _

_ When it was clear no one was going to do anything or tell him any information, he decided to investigate himself. He was in an adventurous mood, and he needed something to get his mind off of the words his father had told him. Words of disappointment and frustration.  _

_ Asriel trekked through the caverns leading deeper into the mountains. Most of the monks had evacuated to the main cathedral. Whatever was down here had genuinely terrified them. It was… worrying.  _

_ He dropped down into a corridor and it was then he saw the red light pulsating on the rock walls.  _

_ "Hell—" he was cut off by a blast of yellow light. He dove out of the way in a nick of time as it blew up the wall behind them. His ears rang, but he managed to crawl back to his feet. The  _ thing _ was still shrouded in nothing but shadows and red light emanating from its chest.  _

_ "Stay away demon!" Screamed the voice of what sounded like a girl.  _ Demon?  _ He held his hands up in a show of surrender. A realization dawned on him. A human. A real human.  _

_ "Don't shoot, don't! I'm not your enemy," he said. The girl shook her head and held up her hands. White light spread through her veins.  _

_ "Everyone is my enemy. They tried to kill me, what makes me so sure you won't try the same thing?" Asriel was confused at first. Who tried to kill her? Was that why she was down here?  _

_ "Don't come any closer or I will kill you. It would be easy. Like crushing a bug," she threatened. Asriel frowned, his own white light spreading down his veins to his hands. A spark and a flame. Blue fire lit up the corridor and mixed into the girl's red light. A deep magenta fell upon them at the mixture of their respective light and they saw each other.  _

_ "I don't want to hurt you… I just wanted to see what was down here," he said truthfully. The girl narrowed her eyes. Big brown eyes. Short brown hair. A willowy body. She was young. Or maybe she was. Asriel had never seen a human before in his entire life… but she looked young.  _

_ When she said nothing, Asriel took up another topic. The reason for her being down here. After all, humans lived on the surface. Why would they ever willingly come down to the Underground? To this glorified prison?  _

_ "Who tried to kill you?" Again, she merely glared at him and he nodded slowly in understanding. She wasn't going to tell. Touchy subject.  _

_ "They called me a witch. Said I was conspiring with demons. I couldn't use my magic. I am  _ not  _ a witch," she rambled, her voice shaking the longer they stood there, staring across at each other. How long had she been alone? He didn't know what led him to saying what he said next.  _

_ "Well… if you stop calling me a demon, I won't call you a witch." She shot him a confused look. He stepped a bit closer and her soul flared with hot, red light. He shushed her as if he were soothing a small child.  _

_ They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Asriel grew fatigued and let his fire snuff out. Her soul pulsed red and slowly she began to lower her hands. The light faded and they were shrouded in darkness. Neither of them moved. Neither of them wanted too. Their souls flickered, and something clicked. As if this had always supposed to happen.  _

_ "Well if… if I can't call you  _ demon,  _ what can I call you?" She asked. Asriel smiled softly and inched forward.  _

_ "Asriel Dreemur," he said. The girl hummed in response. Another gaping moment of silence stretched between them until the girl finally came to a conclusion.  _

_ "Chara… my name is…  _ Chara," 

  
  
  
  


⁂

  
  


_ Damn that bastard bull,  _ thought Julian, his aging body climbing its way out of his carriage. He had gone the entire day without his trusted bodyguard. There was a growing paranoia clawing at him no matter where he went. He had the ever increasing fear of returning home.

Julian would have obeyed that paranoia, had it not been for the stubbornness that came with old age. He was a well feared leader of the drug ring, he had countless associates and goons bowing at his feet and kissing the earth he walked on. His manor was heavily guarded and in a nice neighborhood, and it was  _ his  _ manor. He wasn't going to run from his own home just because he was feeling  _ paranoid _ without his guard. 

He should've. 

Julian hesitated at his door handle, his large red ears swiveling as he listened for any unfamiliar noises. He was met with silence, just like any other day. However, this was a heavy silence. A crouching silence. A silence he could've sworn was waiting for him to enter. 

"You're getting old, Julian," grumbled the fox as he shook away his fear and turned the knob. He was welcomed with the cold, dark interior that was his home. He let out a puff of frosty air. It was  _ very _ cold. How had it gotten that cold? Was the furnace not on?

Julian shuffled inside and closed the door behind him. Darkness.  _ Red smoke.  _ Julian lowered his ears, his heart thudding in his ears as he made his way to the thermostat. 

As the heaters hummed to life, dust puffed out of the vents. He grunted and made a mental note to get in the cleaner. 

He made his way into the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal. The oats sang against the porcelain bowl. Julian sniffed. It didn't smell right. It smelled like  _ cigar smoke.  _ Julian narrowed his eyes and reached into his suit jacket. 

"You've got a  _ lot  _ of nerve comin' into my home  _ uninvited,"  _ he snarled as he whirled around, the  _ schwick  _ of his switchblade slicing through the air. His ears pressed against his head and he let out a choked whine when he laid eyes on the figures inhabiting his kitchen. A Lycan monster and… two  _ Reapers.  _ Not just any Reapers either, no…  _ The Gaster brothers.  _

"What's the matter boss?" Uttered the shorter one, his voice a snarl from deep in his throat. Julian whimpered and backed into the table. The Lycan took a long drag from his cigar and blew out a large cloud of smoke. The smell hit Julian and he coughed. For a man who dealt in drugs, he really didn't know how to handle his tobacco. 

"You're under arrest," hissed the Lieutenant of the Royal Guard. Julian tried to run. Something shot up through the floorboards and into his ankle. He yelped and collapsed onto the floor. The Lycan was on him and wrestled him up before he slammed him into the table and cuffed him. 

Sans and Papyrus Gaster merely sauntered closer, not a single hint of remorse on their dead eyed skulls. Julian's heart was racing in his chest and he gritted his teeth. This couldn't have been happening! Not to him! He was  _ Julian Masaru,  _ he couldn't go down like this! 

"What do ya want, huh!? Money? I've got lots of money, I'll give you all the money ya want!" He tried to plead for his life. At the end of the day, people like him were cowards. Ice crept through his body from his soul that was now glowing a pale blue. His eyes widened as Sans dragged him into the air. 

"We just want you to answer a few questions is all…" he growled. It suddenly dawned on him why the brothers were in his house. Of course! Muffet's little human toy! That had to be it! They must've thought he had her! Julian Masaru was a coward, and he feared the black widow and her pet Shelob far more than he feared the reapers. 

"Go to hell, I ain't tellin' you  _ nothin,"  _ he growled. It was bold. The Lycan snarled and blew cigar smoke into his face. 

"That's what they all say," he growled. Sans nodded slowly and glanced at his brother. Papyrus took the cue and his fist  _ punched _ Julian in the abdomen. Julian's eyes widened as the air was knocked out of him. A blunt pain shot through his lower ribs, his stomach ached with sharp agony. Vomit choked it's way out of his throat and spilled onto the floor below them. He gasped for air, his eyes widening. 

Julian was dropped onto the floor and Sans kicked him over onto his back. A dry, white bone materialized in his hand and he swung it down onto Julian's chest. He barked out a loud, doggish yelp as his ribs collapsed beneath the force. A disgusted crack filled the dusty air. 

"We can do this all day. You know  _ exactly  _ who we're after. You know exactly where we can find her, so, either we do this the easy way…  _ or the hard way,"  _ snarled Sans as the bone came crashing back down onto Julian's crotch. 

Doug winced as the old man gave a piercing cry of agony. 

"I got nothin' to do with that bitch's pet!" He yowled as he rocked back and forth to ease the growing pain spreading through his body. Dust puffed out of his throat and he choked. 

Sans's eyes narrowed. 

"Pet?  _ Who's  _ pet?" He growled. Julian's eyes widened when he realized he had said too much. 

Flowey, who had been hiding in Sans's jacket, frowned in thought. That had been the second time he had heard the term "bitch" being thrown around. He knew they were talking about a woman. Who could possibly… suddenly, something in his mind clicked. A sultry smirk. Six onyx eyes and six spindly arms. An interest in Frisk. An hourglass. A business card.  _ A friend.  _

"MUFFET!" He screamed as his mind made the connection. The entire room seemed to freeze. Everyone… even Sans and Papyrus… visibly paled. The brothers shared a look. Mortified. 

A slow, crisp laughter emanated from below them and they looked down to see Julian  _ laughing.  _

"Not so tough now, are ya, boys?" He croaked. Sans bared his teeth, panic surging through his mind.

Not  _ Muffet.  _ Anyone but  _ Muffet.  _ He… he should've  _ known  _ it was her. _ No fuckin' wonder Anthony didn't talk. Fuck.  _ Fuck!  _ It can't be Muffet.  _ But he knew… That was the only thing that made any sense. Of course it was Muffet, how had he not seen it sooner? 

His body seemed to move on its own and he jolted towards the door. Papyrus clasped his arm and yanked him back. 

"Brother, don't rush into that Spider's Web! We have to be smart about this!" Sans ripped his hands off of him and snarled as Doug wrestled to keep him from storming out.

Sans had to get Frisk away from her! Flowey's vines shot down and ensnared Sans's legs, forcing him to stop. Doug whined in distress. They all knew just how dangerous Muffet was. 

"Sans… listen to Papyrus," he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. Sans's eyes widened and he glanced back and forth between Flowey, Doug and his brother. 

Smoke poured out of his eyes as his soul was flooded with a terrible mixture of fear and rage. He stomped forward and hoisted Julian into the air and against the wall. He wanted to kill him. He wanted nothing more than to end his miserable life. He could rip out Julian's throat, impale him, or vaporize him. He wanted to do it so badly… but… those big, brown eyes. So full of hope and compassion. He had to be better for her.  _ Besides…  _ maybe this cowardly old fuck could be of some use to them. 

"We need to get out of here. Sans… let's go," ordered Papyrus. Sans nodded slowly. Papyrus was right. Now that they knew who they were up against, they could plan accordingly. Red and red-orange smoke filled the dining room, and the house was left empty, if not for the wreckage left behind for Julian's employee's to find. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Water splashed as Muffet gingerly scrubbed her human's body. Drool slipped down Frisk's chin and Muffet wiped it away. Mettaton's cologne still lingered on her bronze skin. He'd had his way with her that night. 

Muffet sighed and poured water over Frisk's head to rinse her. Frisk… she wasn't the first human she had ever come across. The memory of the princess rose in her mind. She hadn't thought about that witch in a long time. Now that she had, she began to realize just how similar the two human women looked. Her soul wrenched at that knowledge. 

The moment she felt the pang of remorse, she reminded herself that it was just a  _ human;  _ a human that had made her eighteen hundred gold in one night. A human who at the end of the day, was just a means to a greater end in the grand scheme of things. 

"This is a lot more manageable…" murmured Muffet. Frisk moaned brainlessly as she slid into the water.  _ It's just a human.  _ She refused to let herself sympathize with her. She refused to let herself think about the pain and vulnerability. 

That vacant look. Muffet sighed and pulled Frisk out from the bathtub. Fresh bruises dotted her body.  _ Cover those up.  _ Muffet didn't want to see them, so, she draped a towel around the girl and led her back into her room. 

Frisk stumbled and tripped. She could barely walk. It had been a large dosage. Soon the high would end… but it was highly addictive, and therefore Frisk would be needing more to simply function. She could definitely use that to her advantage. 

Frisk collapsed onto the bed. She made a noise halfway between a whimper and a gurgle, not able to find her voice as reclusion weighed on her senses. Muffet turned to her and narrowed her eyes. She knew that this would be a very lucrative product.  _ That's right Muffet, it's a product. Products are to be sold.  _ With that final thought she shut down the last dwindling regrets nagging at the back of her mind. Guilt was a luxury she couldn't afford. She had no time to feel guilty. 

She'd put her new  _ product  _ out there for the top paying customers. She'd make a lot of money… and a lot of blackmail. Blackmail built loyalty and alliances in a way amiability just couldn't in this economy. Eventually when the time was right and she had enough allies and power... she could strike, and finally take what was hers… 

"Get some sleep, you have work to do tomorrow," she crooned. 

As she glided downstairs, her landline began to ring. Her soul spiked with anxiety and she raced forth. Who could be calling at this hour? 

She picked up the phone and put on a wide grin. 

"Ms. Muffet!? Are you there?" Alexander? He sounded distressed. What could possibly be the matter?

"Yes… what is it?" She asked. Alexander was quiet for a long time as if debating what he was trying to say was even real. 

"Julian, I… came back to check on Julian and he's gone. Oh it's all my fault, I wasn't there! His kitchen is torn apart. The floorboard, the walls… I think the Gasters got him!" Muffet froze. The Gasters… if they had Julian it was only a matter of time before they came after her! 

"Muffet, what are we going to do about Julian?" Asked Alexander. Muffet was taken aback by his question. There were much worse things than a dead, drug dealing kitsune. 

"They'll try to use him as leverage. The only thing that matters is that they don't get my human." She slammed the phone back down and hung up on him. She wasn't stupid. She knew she wouldn't be able to fight the reapers if they confronted her. No one could, besides maybe Asgore. 

She wasn't about to give up the human however. Not with the promise of so much profit. They hadn't done anything yet, which meant she had time to secure her ownership of the human. Muffet nodded slowly as she cooked up a plan. 

This wouldn't be the first time she had tangoed with the Gaster brothers, but hopefully it would be the last. 

  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: CHARA! Also, Flowey bein smart and putting two and two together. 
> 
> Up Next: Um... A photoshoot of sorts.


	49. Just A Product

Chapter Forty-Nine: Just A Product 

_**warning:** _

_this chapter has themes of sexual harassment, suicidal thoughts and self harm. Read at your own risk._

* * *

Muffet sat at the edge of Frisk's bed and flipped through the pages of an arcane ledger she had taken from Asgore's library many years ago. It had once belonged to the queen, but that woman had been long exiled. Probably even dead. She wouldn't mind if Muffet used it. Muffet secretly believed she was more deserving of it anyway. After all, she had worked for everything in her life. 

Her eyes lit up when she got to the spell she needed.  _ Arachni's Thread. _ She read through the text. Some of it was in a language long dead. The language of the dead gods. She didn't know if she'd be able to recite it. She was thankful for the many notes in the margins made by the old queen. Turned out exiled witches were much more helpful than she first thought.  _ Tie the will of one's soul to yours, and give you rightful ownership of them. The thread connects your soul to the soul of your chosen target. Perfect for controlling the will of a particularly nasty servant. Do be warned, if any harm is done to you, the target under the spell will also suffer the same fate.  _

"Here we go dearie…" She held up her hands and searched for the center of her magic. Her soul lit up white and spread down her veins to her finger tips. The light grew tinged with purple as she began to recite the spell in the old language. Frisk's soul began to glow and threads of light spilled from her fingers and grew tethered to her soul. The effect of the drug stifled the determination that would otherwise wrestle with the magic. She had fought with determination before. It was the strongest magic she had ever come across. It could only be countered by excessive intoxication, otherwise the soul would continuously fight whatever spell was put on it. 

However, Muffet didn't think Frisk had a true grasp on the power she possessed.  _ Makes things easier on me.  _

Muffet stepped back and lifted her chin as she observed the woman before her. The threads of magic faded from view, but not from mind. She reached down for a briefcase and pulled out the vial of reclusion. She'd have to give Frisk regular doses if she wanted the addiction to settle in. 

Muffet tapped the vial and made sure the bubbles had disappeared. She eyed Frisk as she groaned. She was waking up. Frisk's eyes fluttered open and Muffet and Frisk stared at each other. A moment passed as Muffet hovered over her, displaying the syringe in plain sight. Frisk's eyes shifted as her mind assessed everything through the haze of her sleep and previous high. 

Frisk clumsily tumbled out of bed in a sloppy effort to run, but Muffet merely sighed. 

"Be still," she ordered. Both their souls flickered, and the tiny purple threads that connected them shimmered. Frisk froze. Her eyes went wide at the loss of control over her own will. Muffet could see her soul working double time to fight against the magic, but she didn't know how to use it, and her mind was still hazy. 

"What are you doing to me?" Whispered Frisk, her voice hoarse. Muffet gently pushed Frisk down onto the bed and sat down beside her. 

"Making you more  _ useful  _ to me, dearie. You haven't been pulling your weight." Tears welled up in Frisk's eyes and she shook her head. 

"I should've known not to trust you." Muffet narrowed her eyes as she pricked Frisk's skin with the needle. Frisk winced, her eyes wide with fear. 

"No! _ No _ , please just kill me—"

"—and then what? Turn you in? There’ll be plenty of time for that but to do it so early would be... What a wasted investment. You are  _ mine  _ now… If it helps you come to terms with our new arrangement, think of Reclusion as a… gift. To make things easier for you. More enjoyable. Now, be  _ quiet," _ she demanded. Those magical threads glistened at the command, and Frisk once again felt the sudden  _ need _ to obey crash over her. Her own body was betraying her, she couldn't say or do anything! 

Muffet pressed the plunger down, the dark liquid seeping into Frisk's veins. Frisk tried to scream, but her voice was caught in her throat and all that came out was a choked whimper. 

Once more her mind was drowned in a deep, dark haze. The high swept through her with viscous speed that no other drug had ever matched. A warm, sluggish high filled her mind and she sucked in a deep breath to keep herself from drowning in the murky haze.

Her eyes clouded over and as the warmth filled her, her muscles relaxed. The haze that filled her head and buzzed with a ferocious intensity began to overcome her senses with a warm, sickly pleasure.

She slowly collapsed back onto the bed, her eyes rolling up, her mouth agape as if trying to gulp down air. 

Muffet sighed and shook her head. She wasn't looking forward to dressing and making her over, but she decided it would be just like dressing a mannequin, or a doll. That made her feel better. 

She propped the young woman up, Frisk hunching over like a ragdoll. Muffet growled with frustration and whistled a sharp tune. There was a blood chilling hiss from down the hall and the scuttling of many, heavy legs on the ceiling.

Muffet went to open the door and Shelob squeezed her huge, bulbous, black body through. Her many, red eyes locked Frisk in a predatory gaze and her mandibles twitched with hunger. 

Muffet clicked her tongue and shook her head. 

"Now, now my pet, she's not for breakfast," she said calmly. Shelob hissed and lunged for Muffet, stopping a hair's breath away from her face. Muffet stared unflinchingly at the ginormous spider, her eyes narrowing as a shadow of demands passed between them. A low, tumbling rumble rolled out of Shelob and she closed her eight, disgusting eyes in an act of submission. 

With that out of the way, Shelob spun thick, sticky threads out from her swollen thorax and hoisted Frisk up. The woman dangled from the web like a puppet and Muffet smiled with satisfaction. 

She had booked a photoshoot with Jared and was planning on selling the pictures to the highest paying bidders in her circles of influence. A high ranking soldier in the guard who indulged in many of her illegal services, several of her business partners, and Mettaton. 

She laughed quietly to herself as she even indulged in the possibility of sending one to Sans Gaster to mock him. One last hurrah over that impudent wretch. What could he do to her now that her fate was tied with Frisk's? The answer was absolutely nothing. 

Muffet stepped away when she was finished dressing her. She now sported a tight, black see-through shirt and lacey red panties. Her lips were a dark crimson, eyes a smoky black and cheeks blushed and bronzed. She really was beautiful… even though her hair was chopped sloppily at the chin. She hadn't noticed Frisk had cut it. There was a certain charm to it. A wildness that she knew people would eat up. 

"Alright, wrap her up and we'll go to the studio. I'll need you today," she crooned. Shelob purred and rubbed her large, hairy head against Muffet. She grinned and scratched the monstrous Spider's head. She gave Shelob an affectionate kiss and the spider crooned with delight. 

Muffet stepped back and watched as Shelob encased the girl in a cocoon of spider's silk. Muffet hummed and sauntered down the hall, her Shelob dragging Frisk along with them. 

They loaded her into the back of a carriage and Shelob dragged her fat, swollen body into the tight box. Muffet watched as her pet hunkered down over the silken case. 

She nodded with satisfaction and climbed into the front of the carriage. The two centaurs pulling the coach swallowed nervously at the notion that Shelob was coming with them. They sighed and started forth, trying not to think about whatever crimes they were passively forced into. 

⁂

Jared was waiting for Muffet in the studio with buckets of red powder and paint that she had told him to bring. A bathtub set piece was put up, and he assumed he'd be doing a nude photoshoot. He'd done plenty of those. 

He checked his camera lenses for the tenth time that morning and started when Muffet glided through the door. 

"Mornin'—GAH!" He shrieked when he saw her hulking "pet" lumbering behind her. Muffet narrowed his eyes at him, that sickly sweet smile spreading over her face. 

"I see you brought Shelob… did I do something wrong?" He asked. 

Muffet tilted her head at him. He was so pathetic, she almost wanted to let Shelob devour him. However, there posed another problem, and another reason he was still alive. Jared was so revolting that not even  _ Shelob  _ wanted to feast on him. She glanced back as her pet tore open the casing and dragged Frisk out. 

She blocked the girl from his vision and smirked. 

"Quite the contrary. Remember the photoshoot we talked about? Shelob is merely a necessary prop. Meet Moxie Valentine. Or should I say, Frisk De La Noir." 

Jared laid his curious gaze upon the girl lying on the floor. His eyes widened when he realized she was a human. 

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed. Muffet nodded calmly and waved her hand dismissively. 

"Yes, yes, now you know why I just wanted you and not anyone else." Jared nodded in agreement. He was one of Muffet's most trustworthy employees. Besides, he held out the hope that he could also have a taste of the human she had brought him to work with. 

Muffet seemed to notice the perverted glint in his eyes as he stared down at the woman and she gritted her teeth. Mettaton was one thing but Jared? She didn't know if she was willing to let her property be degraded to  _ that  _ low of a degree. 

"Frisk, come here," she ordered. A glint of purple threads and Frisk rolled sluggishly onto her stomach. They watched as she rose, shaking, to her hands and knees. She crawled to Muffet's feet and lowered back onto her stomach. Drool leaked out of her mouth and Muffet kneeled down. She snatched her chin and wiped the spittle off. 

"Get the set piece ready and I'll touch up her makeup," she ordered. A moment passed as Jared gazed hungrily at the braindead woman below them. Muffet twitched with irritation. 

_ "Today please!"  _ She snapped. He quickly shook himself out of it and raced about, getting everything ready. When they were both finished, Muffet nodded to Shelob. The same wordless commands passed between them and Shelob scuttled forth. Ropes of silk connected to Frisk's wrists and ankles and she was dragged to the bathtub. The red paint had been poured in along with water to dilute it. It looked like blood. 

"Can I move her into positions?" Asked Jared shakily. Muffet ignored the bulge in his pants. 

"Work your magic Jer-bear," she crooned as she took a seat. Instead of watching, she stuck her nose into her look book. It was the best way to avoid the deplorable acts she was enabling. 

"Do whatever he tells you to do,  _ dearie,"  _ she ordered. A glint. Frisk lifted her big, brown eyes to meet his and she whimpered her obedience. 

"Sit up on your knees and hold your tits." He stepped back and held up his camera. Frisk moved at a languid, heavy pace as she sat on her knees and spread her thighs. Her hands slowly crept up her body, Jared snapping pictures. 

Moving was like trying to fight against a relentless current. It took so… much…  _ energy _ . The light flashing in her eyes was blinding and she whimpered. 

"There we go… that's good. Turn around babe. Tease the camera. Take off your shirt." Frisk nodded brainlessly and moved that slow, languid motion as she peeled away the shirt. The light flashed as the camera shutters went off in rapid succession. 

They went through several more, painstaking poses before Jared finally moved on to incorporate the set piece. 

"Ok, babe, bend over the bathtub—" 

"—She'll need help." Jared nodded and approached the woman as she struggled to get her feet underneath her. He hoisted her up and bent her over the tub. He leaned over her and took her chin into his sweaty hands. He turned her face to look at the camera and grinned. 

"Hold that pose, babe." He pressed his hips against her ass before walking back to his spot to shoot more pictures. 

Muffet shuddered at the move. She glanced at Shelob and passed a warning to her before she got up to leave. Shelob let out a low hiss at Jared and he chuckled nervously. 

Frisk's body shook the longer she held the pose, and eventually gave way. She slipped into the bathtub face first. The paint mixed water invaded her nose and mouth and she shot up. Jared pulled her out, laughing at her as he got a towel. 

Her smeared makeup would make the customers go wild, so Jared didn't see it as a loss. He dipped his hands in red dust before he planted his hand onto her breast. Frisk moaned in mindless distress at the move. 

Shelob hissed and held up her legs in warning. Jared held up his hands defensively. 

"It's part of the shoot," he gasped. Frisk choked, tears brimming in her eyes. More cameras flashed, blinding her. 

He helped her into the bathtub and positioned her.  _ Flash! Flash! Flash!  _ Frisk was disoriented and confused. The high stifled her terror and disgust that was trapped just below the surface. 

Finally, after three hours, the photoshoot was done. Jared pulled Frisk out from the bath and the woman collapsed to her feet. 

"I can't really say I'm surprised. I knew they would do that.  _ Stay out here."  _ A muffled voice of a man emanated from the hall as Muffet sauntered back in. Shelob dragged Frisk back into her grasp and began to spin her in a thick case of webbing. 

"Muffet! This is serious! They're demanding to see Frisk!" Bellowed Alexander as he barged into the room. Muffet was secretly thankful the human was already encased. 

A smirk graced her lips and she grabbed the camera from Jared. She flipped through the numerous pictures he had taken of her and a wicked grin spread across her face. 

"Well if they want to see her so badly… I'll send them some momentos," she purred. Alexander shot her a wary look. His eyes flickered to the camera and he felt his heart plummet. He looked over at the bulbous spider and the body beneath her. It didn't take a genius to understand what was going on. 

"Delete those…  _ delete those now!  _ What are you doing to her!?" He gasped. A snort escaped his flared nostrils and he bellowed with distress. He couldn't let Frisk be used and abused like this! He had to stop this! 

Muffet giggled and stroked Alexander's chest. He jerked away, his eyes wide with horror. 

"Atatatata… I will not be deleting anything. And  _ you  _ are going to forget about this. Forget about Frisk. She is nothing but a product." She almost sounded sympathetic. Alexander glared at her. He wanted to kill her right there and then. This horrible woman who was degrading and  _ hurting  _ the kindest person he had ever known. 

"No,  _ no,  _ I won't let you do this!" He bellowed. Shelob rose defensively and let out a horrible shriek. Muffet smirked and glanced back at her pet. 

"That's ok. Shelob has been getting very hungry and I'm sure she'd love to feast on you," she threatened. Alexander stumbled back as the spider stepped towards him. 

Muffet advanced on him. 

"Do we still have a problem? Or does one, little, human  _ girl _ really matter that much?" She clasped his hand in hers and twisted until he was on his knees. She smiled, delighted at the power she wielded. 

Alexander's eyes welled and he stared at the ground. There had to be a way to save Frisk. There  _ had  _ to. 

Slowly, he turned his glare back up at her and huffed. 

"We don't have a problem. I apologise for my outburst." Muffet crooned with delight before she shifted on her weight and kicked him in the face without warning. 

_ "Good.  _ I'm glad we can continue our amiable negotiations. Don't make me change my mind," she hissed. 

With that, Muffet and Shelob left the building with Frisk's body in tow. 

Alexander shook at the assault. Slowly he rolled back onto his knees and shot a poisonous glare at Jared. 

"You're sick," he spat. Jared shrugged as he took down his setup. 

"Watch it bullseye. Muffet's got me on top priority," he said smugly. Alexander narrowed his eyes as he stood up to full height. An attempt to salvage his lost dignity. 

"Muffet doesn't have a priority list. She only cares about herself. She won't protect you from the Gasters," he warned. Jared locked eyes with him and a sweat broke out on his greasy brow. 

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Alexander growled at him and turned to leave. 

"It means…  _ don't fall asleep."  _

⁂

Frisk was sprawled on the floor of a private room in the Hourglass Casino. Sweat and cum covered her shaking naked body. 

She had been left alone after Mettaton and his friends had their way with her that evening. Now they were with Muffet to discuss the photos and who to sell them to. 

The drug had begun to wear off and Frisk's eyes welled with tears as her mind was flooded with thoughts and an aching buzz. She choked on the lump swelling in her throat and let out an ugly sob. 

Frisk's body shook as she pulled herself up and gagged. She spat onto the floor as tears and snot poured down her face. She looked around and stumbled to her discarded clothes. No pants?

Her body hurt. She looked down and let out a strangled cry when she saw the blood streaming from her legs. The last time there had been blood was when she had lost her virginity… and that was only because Louis only cared about satisfying himself. 

After that, she lost any semblance of control she might have had over her emotional state. The sobs came harder and she slid back down to the floor. Her arms wrapped around her body in a desperate attempt to shield herself. Her cries were so great, she started screaming. 

She screamed until her voice was hoarse, her nails digging into her skin and leaving bright red scratches on her arms. There was an itching craving in the back of her mind that moved her hands. 

She itched her skin as her body shook. She didn't want to be sober. Not when being sober meant she'd be bombarded with the cruel reality of her forced prostitution…  _ rape _ . That's what it was wasn't it? There wasn't any way to sugarcoat it. 

Frisk let another hoarse scream peel from her lips.

"God!  _ God!  _ Someone get me out of here! Please, please, please,  _ please.  _ Je veux mourir, juste me tuer _ , just kill me— PLEASE!  _ Why? Why, why why, please. It's not fair.  _ Je ne peux plus faire ça!  _ Just let me die, please, God. I'm done. I'm  _ done… J'ai fini ... _ " she trailed off as her earnest cries for an end fell on deaf ears. 

She let herself fall back to the floor, the cold tiles cooling her hot face. She wanted to give up. She could feel the determined resolve in her soul waver. She wanted everything to just stop. 

The door creaked open and she shot up to attention, her face paling as she dreaded the presence of Muffet, or Mettaton. 

"Is something… is, like, every—Oh… oh my God…" it was a woman. Frisk looked up and her eyes lit up when she saw Kathy! 

"K-Kathy!" She hiccupped, staggering away from the wall. The Tabaxi was standing there, her eyes wide with alarm and disbelief at the human before her eyes. 

"Kathy… it's me," she croaked, her voice still sluggish from the previous high. She felt like she hadn't said a word for years. Kathy stumbled away from her. 

"Moxie!? You… what…what happened to you? I shouldn't be here, I'm—"

"—No! Please,  _ please  _ don't leave me!" Frisk's body shook as a new wave of sobs flooded her already tear-soaked face. Kathy's ears pressed to the back of her head and her pupils slitted with distress. 

"H-here…" she said, immediately taking off her jacket and draping it around Frisk's body. Frisk pulled her into an embrace and shook violently. 

"Muffet… Mettaton. This… This drug. She drugged me," Frisk rambled as she sobbed. Kathy nodded slowly, hugging her tighter as a wave of compassion filled her soul for the poor woman below her. She had been in the same spot after all. It was a constant part of the job. Both men and women who worked for Mettaton were treated like this. 

Kathy narrowed her eyes as she remembered this very woman, trembling in her arms, standing up to Lieutenant Papyrus of all people. This woman has been compassionate and kind and  _ ballsy, _ from what Kathy knew about her. Kathy… had always wanted to be like that. She had always wanted to stand up to Mettaton. She looked back down at the human in her arms. This was wrong. This was sick. 

"I'm going to get you out of here," she said firmly. Frisk's eyes brightened and she clung to the woman, the first friendly face she had seen in a long time. 

"Oh you are… are you?" Frisk's eyes shot open and she shook her head when she met the glare of Muffet. 

The demoness was standing with her front two arms crossed over her chest. A disapproving scowl was on her lips. 

"No!" Cried Frisk. Kathy's eyes widened when she realized just how much danger she was in. She shot up like a bullet, and Frisk was knocked to the floor with a yelp. 

Muffet narrowed her eyes. 

"Kathyrn Baxi… isn't that correct? You work as Mettaton's personal assistant," she purred. Kathy backed away and helped Frisk back to her feet. She spared a glance down at the woman she had only previously known as  _ Moxie,  _ and something unknown flickered in the depths of her soul. 

"I don't care how powerful or rich you are, you can't do this to her…I… I can't let you do this. I know what this is like. I will not let you turn her into an object! Not if I can help it!" Muffet rolled her eyes at the speech and smiled a fanged smile. 

"Frisk, dearie, get away from her and sit down like a good girl," ordered Muffet. Much to Kathy's dismay, Frisk's soul glinted and she seemed to drag herself to sit. To  _ obey.  _ Kathy's fury only grew. 

"You can't do this! I… I'll stop you!" She screamed. Muffet giggled and sauntered toward her. Kathy backed away. 

What had she been thinking!? Standing up to the Black Widow!? 

Before she could defend herself, Muffet's arm struck out and hit her neck with such force, she hit the wall. A hot pain spread down her neck and an aching pang swelled as she choked for air. 

Frisk let out a cry for her to stop, but Muffet shushed her. 

"What could you possibly do, Kathyrn? Fight me? You know, it's been a long time since I've gotten my hands dusty. Maybe our dear,  _ Moxie,  _ would like a demonstration," she hissed as she lunged for her. The spider woman spun on her heels; she crashed her three, right elbows across Kathy's face in relentless succession. Kathy was sent to the floor, and a kick landed in her ribs. 

Frisk gave a shout of protest, her body trembling with terrible cries for Muffet to stop. 

"Please!" Kathy staggered back to her feet and the two paced around each other. 

"Would you try and go to the brothers?" Frisk's heart sank at the memory of the brothers… of  _ Sans.  _ A deep part of her cried out for him to come to her rescue. That was a childish wish.

Muffet's leg flew up and she kicked Kathy in the neck. She quickly hopped to her other foot and kicked Kathy in the stomach. She was once more knocked to the floor. 

"I… Mettaton can't do this to anyone anymore," she wheezed. Frisk sobbed as Muffet paced away. The door creaked open and the hulking spider, Shelob, squeezed through the door frame. 

"Please…  _ please  _ don't leave me—"

"—Shut up Frisk." Frisk immediately obeyed, despite the strain of her soul.  _ What is happening to me!?  _

Kathy cried out at the sight of Shelob. Muffet held up her hand as Shelob hissed. 

"Go ahead. Run away. Leave her." Kathy looked from Muffet to Shelob to Frisk, her breath heavy as she weighed her options. A silent plead passed between Frisk and Kathy, before Kathy croaked out an apology and bolted for the door.

Frisk slowly closed her eyes and tried not to let the tears building up behind her lids fall. Muffet turned to her and smiled that same sickeningly sweet smile that Frisk had come to loathe. 

"Your resolve is breaking dearie. That's what happens when you have so much determination and nothing to show for it… You have a conquerable soul. You're mine, dearie, and nothing and no one will take you away from me. Let this be a lesson…" Frisk's eyes were wide, face pale as she shook. For once in her life she had no idea what she could do. 

She had only felt this hopeless while in Lyon with Claude. Back then she didn't even have Determination. Now she did, and it was proving useless against Muffet's drugs and magic. It seemed to her then the only logical thing to do was take her own life. Or at least mutilate herself enough to where no one would see her as desirable anymore. 

There was a clink that brought Frisk back to reality. Her body shook harder and that same craving crept into the back of her brain and at the tips of her fingers. Her skin tingled and she scratched absentmindedly. She was hungry for something and didn't know what it was. Her head was starting to ache. She told herself it was a migraine due to the stress of this impossible situation. 

Her eyes trailed up to see the vial of brown liquid, Reclusion. 

"You look very sad, dearie. It's unbearable to watch…" murmured Muffet with a tantalizing click of her nails on the glass. 

A chill ran down Frisk's spine as her eyes dilated.  _ She has you addicted to that shit! Look at what she's doing to you! Resist it!  _ One part of her screamed.  _ What's the point of resisting? She'll just inject me with it anyway… at least if I'm high I won't be considering suicide.  _ The other part sighed. A deeper part told her suicide was much more favorable to being Muffet's sex puppet that made her wallet fat. At least then she'd have a say in what happened to her. She wanted that kind of control back. 

She swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. She glanced back at the door where Kathy had run from. 

"Don't hurt her… please don't hurt Kathy…" she whispered. Muffet smirked. 

"You can be the judge of what happens to Kathyrn… go on and plead," she purred as she flicked the air bubbles out. Frisk clenched her jaw. It was an almost instantaneous understanding of what Muffet wanted. Frisk lowered her head in shame as she sunk down to the floor. The craving just under her skin compelled her…  _ Compelled  _ her to crawl to Muffet's feat and plead for mercy. She had never felt more wretched. 

A needle. A flood of warmth and pleasure. Kathy would hopefully be spared Muffet's cold fire. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ...Well, that was painful... But all of this pain lays the ground work for when Frisk WINS. And she will, that I can promise you right now. Frisk will Win. Good always triumphs over evil, at least in my stories they do. 
> 
> Up Next: Sans and Muffet have a confrontation.


	50. The Color Red

**A/N: Hello Lovelies! I wanted to do a small art dump, because I have received fanart!**

**[Muffet being her wickedly evil self (Fanart) ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/gL3FkF9zVnFvhnve8) **

**[Frisk Fanart (Chapter 47) ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/Wzg8nnx8ZYXC8SBx8) **

**[Papyrus Character Concept (my art) ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/aSTA2jbTWavnrR9k8) **

**By the way, I did want to announce a small competition of sorts, or like a game to keep things fresh. I'm going to be giving an exclusive preview of the next three chapters to the first five people who submit fanart!**

**Anyway, that's enough from me, please enjoy Chapter 50!**

* * *

Chapter Fifty: The Color Red 

* * *

April had passed in a blur. It was May already… Flowey didn't know what he was doing. He had to get out of the house. Nothing but pain and anger filled that place as Sans and Papyrus ignored each other whilst also trying to beat the information out of some of the lowest thugs in the Underground. 

He found himself in that temple. It was a sanctuary to him. A place he could run away to. However, something was different. 

Something, or rather... _someone_ , was missing. As he climbed through the temple and into the old home his mother had made for herself after her exile it hit him. No one had lived here for months. Dust covered the floor.

As he made his way down the stairs, his eyes were drawn to a line of dust. Not dirt. He knew that dust. Someone had died, and distress filled his soul when he realized just who it had been. Toriel. His eyes widened and he backed against the wall. Tears filled his beady eyes and spilled down his seedy face. 

When had she died? The back door that led to the Temple was wide open and broken off its hinges. His mind snagged on a distant memory. Frisk's ex husband. The reminder of Frisk was another stab in his soul. 

He looked back down at the trail of dust. He had never made things right with his mother… she had never known he was her son, that he was still alive. He needed some kind of closure. He needed to stop running away from himself and the problems he faced. Accepting he was Asriel was one thing… following through with what he knew he'd have to do was another. 

Flowey started toward the room the dust trailed into. The door was ajar, but not wide open. He had never been in this room before. It had never been open until now. 

He frowned and slid into the once locked room. The air was stale. Dusty. Dusty with both the dust of a dead monster and also with age. This room hadn't been cleaned in a long time. 

The first thing he saw was a large tomb. A huge marble block in the center of the room. It was filled to the brim with family photos, candles long dead and melted away and shattered mirrors. 

A tomb… and at the base was a dusty corpse, skeletal fingers clinging to the rock for dear life. A bit ironic. Flowey knew immediately who it was. Toriel. It didn't take much speculation to figure out _where_ he was either. This was Chara's tomb. It hit him like a slap in the face. 

Flowey half-crawled, half-slithered to his dead mother's side, his eyes wide. 

"It's me… it's me mom, your son. I'm sorry it took me this long to tell you…" His voice cracked as he choked out the words. She was gone… What had he been hoping to gain? 

"Look at the three of us… We're one big family, aren't we?" He croaked as he held his mother's head. Dust spilled from her cavernous eye sockets. 

A moment of silence passed as Flowey quietly mourned his family before a flicker caught his attention. Flames in the candles. What? It brought warmth back into the room. The candles had a strange tint of light. Red…? Red fire. 

Flowey narrowed his eyes with suspicion as he glanced around. The door was now wide open. The warmth left and the candles snuffed themselves out, leaving him in the dark. 

A shudder ran through his stem and he laid his mother's head down. He had to get out of here. He'd find nothing for him here. What mattered was saving Frisk, and then hopefully, the rest of the Underground. 

**  
  
**

⁂

**  
  
**

_His mother had accepted Chara into their home with hardly any question. She had said that a human girl was the perfect example to set to their people and that any friend of her son's was bound to be trustworthy._

_His father however, was not so welcoming. He only agreed to keep her under their roof if she was kept under constant supervision. Chara hated it. But she found that she liked living with the monsters more than the surface._

_At least underground, she could practice her magic without judgment or fear of death. Toriel was excited to teach someone her spells._ "Two witches," _she would always say,_ "get the riches." It was the corniest catchphrase. 

_Chara was fun and she gave Asriel a way to escape from being a prince. They would often visit the temple together. If they weren't at the temple, or in their own respective studies, they would play together and prank the castle guards ordered to watch the human girl._

_Chara shushed his giggles as she tied the balloon filled with slime._

_"They're going to be furious," whispered Asriel. Chara winked at him._

_"Yep… which is why I hope you're fast." Asriel grinned at the challenge._

_"Chara!? Chara where are you!? Oh the king is gonna kill me," moaned a guard in distress as he fell right into their trap. Chara jumped out and threw the slime balloon. It burst into his face. He was so taken aback by the assault he slipped and tumbled to his ass._

_The teenagers cheered their triumph as they sprinted away._

_"Chara Dreemur!" A whistle was blown as the children scurried through the castle grounds, unable to catch their breath as they ran and laughed._

_Asriel yelped as he tripped on his boot laces and fell face first to the ground. Chara gasped and skidded to a stop. She ran to his side and dragged him back to his feet._

_"Stop right there, princess!" Ordered one of their guards. They were soon joined by five more._

_"We can take 'em," said Chara with a mischievous gleam in her reddish-brown eyes. Asriel glanced at her, his lips twitching nervously._

_"But, sis—" She shouted and threw her hands up, soul flashing red light that streamed down her veins to her fingertips and erupted out. She twisted on her heels and snapped her wrists, two whips of purple fire slapping the ground with a hiss._

_The guards' eyes widened and they glanced at each other. Asriel smirked with newfound confidence and his fingers flared with blue fire._

_Chara snapped her whips as a blast of blue fire shot at the guards. They dove out of the way as the siblings worked together. Chara searched out with her energy and her soul flickered as she pulled from and channelled Asriel's magic._

_She rolled on her feet and kicked a ball of red energy at the first guard. He was thrown against the wall and just as he was about to fall to the ground, his soul turned cyan blue and he was frozen in time._

_Her purple whips snagged the leg of another guard and she spun on her heels, dragging the monster across the courtyard into another one of his fellow soldiers._

_Asriel laughed and sent a huge wave of cold fire at the guards. They screamed and took cover. The prince and princess were far too powerful to be trifled with! They were even more powerful together. It was dangerous. She needed to be stopped._

_Chara held up her hands as white shot down her veins, blasts of yellow energy exploding off her fingers. Asriel jumped up to send another wave of fire, and his body flew right in line with a blast of yellow light. Chara's eyes widened and she screamed._

_A blue light flashed and the world froze around them, leaving everyone but Chara frozen in time. She snapped her whips and grabbed Asriel's ankle, yanking him out of the way. The blast of energy had hit his chest, but she had stopped it just in time._

_The blue light faded and chaos resumed. Asriel let out an agonized cry. The skin and fur on his chest had been scorched._

_"I'm sorry, it was an accident!" She gasped as she tried to help Asriel up._

_"Chara! No more fun and games! You're getting out of control," snarled one of her body guards as she was dragged away from the prince. Asriel stumbled to his feet with the help of the guards they had been playfully fighting only moments before._

_"I'm sorry, Azzy," she whimpered. Asriel shook as he held his hand up to his chest. Just as he was about to say something, another bodyguard snarled and cut him off._

_"Get the prince away from her. King Dreemur was right. This witch needs to be kept under lock and key!" Chara's eyes widened at the threat._

_"What!? You can't do that!"_

_"Do… what, exactly?" Everyone froze as two figures emerged in the courtyard. The king and queen. The guards immediately dropped to their knees to bow._

_Asgore nodded his satisfaction before he laid eyes on the scorch on his son's chest._

_"Asriel, what happened here?" He asked, his eyes going wide. Toriel cried out when she saw the burn. Chara felt a sinking guilt drag down her soul and she stared at the ground._

_"It… it was an accident. Chara and I were goofing around and—"_

_"—Chara, did you burn my son with your putrid, human magic?" Spat Asgore. Toriel glanced at Chara, her face a desperate question mark. Chara crumbled into herself._

_"Dad, I'm fine—"_

_"—It was my fault, I'm so sorry," she whimpered, hanging her head in shame. Toriel frowned and made her way to the girl before Asgore put a firm hand on her shoulder._

_"No dear. You take care of that garish scar on our son's chest before it goes ugly. I'll handle the girl."_

_Asgore and Chara made their way down the hall, their footfalls mirroring the others. Chara was scared. The threat of being kept under lock and key was petrifying. She didn't want to be a slave, or a puppet. She wasn't stupid. She knew she wasn't nearly on the same level as Asriel in her adopted father's mind. She didn't truly feel like she belonged._

_"Your magic is untamable and seems to have no limitations. Much like the Reapers, that kind of power can't go unchecked," said Asgore as they made their way through the Judgement Hall. Golden light spilled in through the tall, stained-glass windows._

_"I know how to control my magic…" she murmured. Asgore shot her a withering look._

_"Obviously, you don't. We'll have to find some way to suppress it. Only focus on…Maybe one form of magic like pyrokinesis… or spell casting. Maybe give you a new teacher. I fear my wife may be coddling you. She's always wanted a daughter…" he murmured. He was mostly speaking to himself, but she could hear him loud and clear._

_"But— You can't do that! It's_ my _magic." Asgore whirled around to face her and blew out a taut puff of air in her face._

_"You hurt my only son. You poison him with your bad influence. He is the future king of monsters, and you are turning him into a rebellious punk. My wife is fond of you, but you will always be second in priority to my son. I will not let what happened today happen again, understand?" She understood. Loud and clear._

_Tears welled in her eyes and she backed away._

_"This isn't fair! I hate you," She spat. Her soul glinted with orange light and she sprinted away, her body a blur of speed._

_It was the next day when Asgore's demands came true. Toriel reluctantly gave up teaching Chara, who was now banned from spending alone time with Asriel of any kind. He also followed through on the threat to replace her teacher._

_She was a young woman who was married to one of the generals of Asgore's military. She had been Toriel's student, and it appeared she was here to pass the torch. Chara found it all insulting and suffocating._

_"I know how you must feel. It's never easy having to answer to the demands of an angry man," said her new teacher as they read about the art of purple energy, perseverance._

_Chara glanced up from her book, finding any chance to talk about anything other than the minutiae of creating ropes, whips, chains and bonds to be much more welcome._

_She stared into the woman's six, onyx eyes and grinned._

_"They're just scared because we have all the real power," she said. Her teacher smirked knowingly and tossed her jet black hair over her shoulder._

_"You're definitely right about that one,_ dearie." 

⁂

"We should probably talk… I know you're upset with me…" Papyrus trailed off as they made it to their driveway. It was then that they noticed something was amiss. The basilisks were in distress, cawing and hissing up a storm. Footsteps littered the driveway and Calibri was pawing the ground. 

"Hold that thought," murmured Sans as he picked up a small package from the doorstep. _What the fuck is this?_

He glanced over his shoulder as Papyrus paced about the driveway, his eyes trained on the foot prints. 

"There were three men here," he murmured. Sans turned back to look at the package. It was bad news. A letter was attached to the front and he ripped it off. 

_Salutations Sans Gaster,_

_You've been working so tirelessly, it's admirable. You even took my colleague and friend hostage to use as bait. That was very clever of you. Good job. I wanted to give you a little gift as a reward for your persistence. You deserve it, dearie._

_—You know who_

_P.S. Hourglass Casino… hope to see you there for a little demonstration._

Sans narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly who it was from. He couldn't help but feel the shudder crawling down his spine. The box was held together with string, and was big enough to hold index cards. What was in there? His desperate curiosity got the best of him; he tore the ribbon and jerked the lid off. 

Photos spilled out onto the porch and he cussed under his breath. 

"What is it, brother?" 

Sans froze as he bent down to pick them up. It was Frisk. 

He couldn't breath. A weight pressed on his ribs as he stared at the lewd images below him. Her naked body in the most undignified positions. Red handprints were on her breasts and ass. Dread hardened in his spine and spread through his marrow with a nauseous persistence. His jaw clenched and fangs gritted with bubbling rage. The lights of his eyes were snuffed out and he snarled. _This isn't real. Fuck. FUCK. NO._

He snatched one of the pictures off the ground and tore it in half with a snarl. He didn't want to believe his eyes. This couldn't be real! That couldn't be Frisk, it couldn't have been because if it was… If it was… What would that mean for her? What was Muffet doing to her!? 

He looked back at the letter and looked down at the message. _The Hourglass Casino._

"What is i—OH MY GOD!" Papyrus grasped the photos, his eyes wide and filling with tears. 

"No! No, no, no!" Sans crumbled the letter and threw it onto the ground. 

"I'm going—"

"—it's a trap, Sans! You know this is one of her games, she's playing you!" Sans threw Papyrus's arm off of him. That didn't matter anymore. Being smart and clever and _Patient_ didn't _matter_ anymore. What _mattered_ was saving Frisk. What _MATTERED_ was ripping off Muffet's head and feeding it to the hellhounds! 

"Tell me something I don't know. Muffet needs to pay," he snarled. Before Papyrus could argue, Sans surrounded himself with red smoke, and in another second, he was gone. 

**  
  
**

⁂

**  
  
**

Sans appeared in the Hourglass Casino in a puff of red smoke. Some of the patrons gasped at his presence and quickly scurried away from him. He snarled and made his way to a security guard. 

The monster choked at the sight of the reaper and held up his hands. Sans smacked them away and shoved him against the wall. 

"WHERE. IS. MUFFET!?" He'd kill her. He'd kill her. _He'd kill her. HE'D KILL HER._ The security guard cried out in terror. Several other guards jumped on him and pulled the reaper off of their colleague. 

"Get the fuck off me…" he trailed off when he caught Muffet walking up to him. A smirk was on her lips. She looked happy to see him. He bared his fangs. He was going to make her pay. She was going to wish she was never born. 

"Muffet… where is she?" Growled Sans as he advanced on her. She didn't back down from him, but instead put a hand out to push lightly on his chest. 

"I see you got my _gift—_ "

"—Shut the fuck up and give Frisk back to me, you revolting _bitch!"_ He snarled, knocking her hand off of his chest. She drew back and frowned at him. 

"It would serve you well to remember your manners, _reaper,"_ she spat. He growled under his breath. He was going to rip her to shreds. He couldn't even begin to imagine what sick shit she had Frisk doing for her.

The only reason he hadn't torn her apart limb from limb was the fact that she had Frisk holed up somewhere and he needed to know where she was. Hell, he just needed to _see_ her. He was going to go insane if he couldn't at least see her again. He knew he didn't deserve it, but at this point it wasn't about him. It was about making sure Frisk was _safe._ He knew she wasn't safe with Muffet. 

_"Where is she?"_ He snarled, his eyelights blinking out, shrouding his eye sockets in darkness. She stared him down, unphased by his abyssal glare, an annoyed scowl growing on her face. 

"You want to see her? I let you see her, stop being so ungrateful." Sans snarled. 

"We have Julian—"

"—Quite frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Kill him for all I care. One less freeloader on my payroll." Sans snarled and summoned a bone into his hand. Muffet's eyes widened with a hint of alarm and she stepped back as he brandished the weapon. 

"He's not the one I want to kill. Let me see Frisk." Muffet smirked quietly at his words, a knowing look in her eyes that drove him insane. 

"That's funny… I can't remember her ever telling me she wanted to see _you,"_ she said. Her words stung. He knew she was right. He didn't deserve Frisk, not anymore, but after the shit he had been sent, he knew he had to help her. He _had_ to get her out. He knew he could snatch her away if they were in the same room and… _wait._ Muffet must've known too. 

Something was off… He remembered the words on the letter. _A demonstration_. 

"It's not about that—"

"—You know, I'm actually quite surprised you came. It's not often I see _the_ Sans Gaster care so much about someone. It's…sort of _cute…_ In a pitiful way. Did my pictures stir something up in your cold, dead soul? _"_ She giggled and he let a low growl tumble from his mouth. 

"I oughta treat you how spider's are supposed to be treated and tear you apart limb from limb—" He snarled, lunging forward only to be stopped by her bodyguards once more. He shoved them away and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

"Again. When are you going to stop being so rude?" She hissed. 

"I ain't messin' around Muffet. Tell me where the fuck you're keeping her. Then _maybe_ I won't drag you through hell and back again before crushing you like the fucking INSECT you are!" He snarled. She smirked and patted his face, much to his dismay. 

"What are you going to do? Kill me? You could definitely do that but unless you want her to die with me -which she will- I suggest you restrain that pesky little temper of yours," she said. He growled under his breath, before his eyes widened. 

"You're bluffing," he growled. Muffet smirked. 

"Oh you poor, lovesick _idiot—_ I only bluff when I'm losing." What had Muffet done to her? He had to get her away. He couldn't lose another person, especially not to Muffet… and _especially_ not Frisk! He could only imagine the deplorable acts she had Frisk doing to fatten her wallet. He glanced at the guards around them, and the small little audience they had attracted in the casino. The odds were stacking against him with each second that passed. 

"Just…let me see her," he murmured. Muffet lifted her chin and her eyes twinkled dangerously. 

"She doesn't want to see you," she whispered. He narrowed his eyes at her. Heat spread through his chest as his entire body went flush with rage. 

"I need to know if she's ok… I need to see her. I need to talk to her. Just…" he uttered, his voice growing quieter. She crossed her arms as she stared him down. She smirked and gave him a small shrug. 

"You want to see her so bad? Fine… Beg," she said. His eyes widened. What? _No fuckin way!_ He glanced at the staircase and over his shoulder at the curious guests. Those pictures. The complete hopeless look in her eyes. The handprints. The bruises. _Swallow your pride. It's a small price to pay to liberate her._ He gave a resolved sigh and scratched the back of his neck. 

"Shit… _please_. Please just let me talk—"

"—I'm sorry, I'm not buying it. _Get on your knees, Sans… and beg."_ Sans grit his teeth. If he did what Muffet asked people would see it as true weakness. They'd know Frisk was… They'd know Frisk meant everything to him and what would they do then? 

Eyes bore into him and the infuriating smirk on Muffet's face mocked him. He… no… _Frisk. Frisk needs me._

Slowly, much to everyone's surprise, he kneeled before Muffet and lowered his head. 

"Please Muffet… please let me talk to her," he murmured, an ashamed look falling over his face. Muffet raised her chin and grinned wickedly. To make a Gaster kneel and beg was power money couldn't buy. 

"Make me believe you. Make _everyone_ in here believe you," she demanded. He growled and slammed his fist on the floor.

" _PLEASE! I'm begging you Muffet!_ Is this what you want? Well you finally got it. I'm _begging. Please for the love of God let me see her. Please_ _God damnit."_ The small gathering went quiet, some sparing Muffet looks of impressed fear, others looking down on Sans with a smug sense of satisfaction. He bristled at the gawking strangers. 

"Get up." He immediately shoved himself back to his feet and smoothed his shirt. She smirked at him and nodded her head as she began to walk upstairs. Sans growled and shot her guests poisonous looks to try and muster up the last bit of dignity he had before he followed after her. 

"You have five minutes to say what you want… but I can't guarantee she'll listen to you…" she said as she opened the door to a private room. Sans froze when he saw _her._

Frisk was right _there._ She was curled into herself on a couch, her short, _bleached_ hair curtaining her face. She wasn't wearing anything but black lingerie. It hit him that this was the first time he had seen her in over a month. This couldn't be real. 

Sans shook himself out of his daze and raced to her side. Bruises littered her body, especially on her ass and inner thighs. He choked at the sight of her mistreatment and hugged her close to him. 

She didn't resist him, which only alarmed him even more. Her head rolled slowly at his touch, and it was then he saw her eyes. Those big, brown eyes... They were devoid of their light, and half lidded as if she were trapped in a haze. She didn't seem to recognize him at all. Sans found he couldn't breath. _What the fuck did that bitch do to her?_

"What's wrong with her? What did you do?" He snarled as he cradled her. Red smoke filled the room as he felt his soul shatter for the millionth time since Frisk had gone missing. He couldn't breath. 

Muffet crept into the room and shrugged. 

"Humans are truly amazing just how resilient they can be… and she has the potential to be the most determined soul I've ever come across. But even determined humans can be broken. Don't worry, I only made her more… _cooperative._ In fact, I'm pretty sure she'd let _you_ do anything you wanted to her… if you really wanted. It would cost though. I don't just go around giving handouts," she said with a smirk. Sans's eyes went black and he rose to face her, Frisk still curled in his arms. 

"You _drugged_ her?" He asked. The pictures made even more sense. Frisk would've never agreed to do what she had been doing in those photos, and that only sickened him more. Muffet glanced at her watch and sucked in through her teeth. 

"Three more minutes," she said. He felt panic spike in his soul and he turned back to Frisk. How was he going to talk to her? She was so far away, she was a husk of the person she was. Frisk had been a bright star in this dark world and Muffet had gone and blown out her candle. He squeezed her hand and ran his hand through her hair. How could she do this to her?

The red smoke that had been gathering on the floor began to swirl around them as he made an attempt to teleport, but Muffet cleared her throat and a purple glint caught his eye. A magical thread was connecting the two women's souls. 

"Don't bother teleporting her with you. I made sure to connect our souls so you wouldn't be able to whisk her away. Not that she'd want you to. You _betrayed her…_ In a way… this is _your_ fault, isn't it? _"_ Sans shook his head and cupped Frisk's face. Her eyes flickered as he tried desperately to make her see him. 

"Frisk… Frisk, _God,_ Frisk, I'm so sorry. I'm so _sorry._ I let this happen to you. I _did_ this to you, this is all my fault. Please—"

"Two minutes—"

"— _Frisk,_ I can't live without you… _Frisk…_ You always used to ask me what I wanted… I know what I want." Frisk blinked slowly and let out a soft whimper. Somewhere deep in her soul, she was fighting, and it only egged him on. 

"I want to be yours, Frisk. I want to be with you, I want to protect you, and… and— shit—I… I want to love you. I _do_ love you. Frisk… I love you. I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise… and this time, I'm not gonna break it. You mean more to me than—"

"—Times up—"

"—God damnit Muffet, could you give me a fuckin minute?" He spat. She bared her fangs at him and her bodyguards barged in. 

"Sans…" whispered Frisk as a faint red glow emanated from her chest. Both Sans and Frisk's soul glistened as he held her. Muffet shot Frisk an alarmed look. 

"Frisk… come here." Sans watched with dismay as Frisk pulled herself away from him and stumbled into Muffet's arms. Obedient… it was disgusting. That wasn't Frisk, that was… a _puppet._ Muffet had turned Frisk into a doll to be used and abused by whoever paid her enough money. Sans felt sick to his stomach. The worst part was, there was nothing he could do. Not now at least. Muffet had wanted him to come just so she could display her power and he had walked right into it. 

"I'll leave it up to her…Dearie… do you want to go with _Sans?"_ She asked. Sans stepped back and clenched his fists. His eyes welled up with frustrated and angry tears. Frisk didn't respond. She couldn't. 

"Oh… well I think that's your answer. Now run along little boy. I think I've made my point," she purred. 

Sans spared one last, desperate look at Frisk before he stepped into a cloud of red smoke. He couldn't help her when she was trapped in Muffet's web. Despite that, he was _going_ to save her. He had to. By any means necessary.

Muffet growled under her breath and turned back to Frisk. She was staring vacantly at the door, her soul was pulsing red. The drug still had an affect on her physical body, but her soul was reaching out. It was _fighting_ , and that damned reaper had sparked it. She hadn't been expecting that. Sans and Frisk's connection went deeper than flesh, and was stronger than the thread connecting _her_ and Frisk. That thought was alarming to Muffet. 

"He said he loved me…" Frisk slurred. Muffet shook her head and kneeled beside her. 

"He's a liar. You know he's a liar, just go back to sleep…" she said. Frisk let out a heavy sigh and gave an obedient, little nod. Everything seemed to take so much energy. She lowered back onto her side and closed her eyes. Her mind slipped back into the murky haze she had now grown accustomed to.

The red light in the fog began to dim as the waves of dark water snuffed it out and she was once again submerged in the heavy high of Muffet's drug. 

**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sans!! God Muffet really has these two by the throats... 
> 
> Up Next: Frisk finds herself trapped in a strange world between worlds and meets a woman who's destiny is tied to her own. (Not to be poetic or anything.)


	51. Chara

**Fanart Dump!**

**[Frisk from Chapter 50 (fanart)](https://the-writing-mobster.tumblr.com/post/629629411053993984/told-you-id-be-back-i-know-this-fanart-is-a) **

**[Chapter 50 Sans and Frisk (Fanart) ](https://the-writing-mobster.tumblr.com/post/629161340434579456/the-writing-mobster-lemme-be-in-that-first-five) **

**thank you for all those who send asks and submit fanart! I really appreciate the encouragement, and it makes writing this story all the more worthwhile! 🥰**

**Now please enjoy 51~**

* * *

Chapter Fifty-One: Chara 

* * *

_ The silky threads of a spider's web pulled at her arms and legs as she danced gracefully across the stage. She knew she wasn't safe. She was vulnerable and alone. Her clothes had been stripped from her, and millions of demons were watching her in the crowd with hate-filled and hungry looks.  _

_ Sans was standing in the aisle, but he was trapped, his soul blue. He couldn't come to her aid.  _

_ "Sans…" she whimpered. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. She furrowed her brow as she tried to fight the threads pulling at her body.  _

_ "You're trapped in a web…" A voice echoed through the hall and Frisk looked up. Where had that voice come from? The floor was stripped away before her eyes, revealing a spiders web.  _

_ Shelob's giant head rolled up to catch Frisk in her beady, red eyes. Her mandibles twitched hungrily and she hissed a terrible hiss before she lunged at Frisk.  _

_ Frisk screamed and thrashed against the strings pulling at her. Shelob clasped her and dragged her down into the sticky threads of silk.  _

_ She gasped as she thrashed in pools of dark ink. She was drowning. She couldn't breath.  _

_ "Swim up…" The voice again. She choked and tried to turn her head. Where was up?  _

_ "Towards the light." It was so dark. She couldn't breath.  _ She couldn't breathe!  _ Frisk tried to scream as she floundered in the liquid bashing against her.  _

_ As she looked about frantically, she found a pulsing red light. Her soul hummed and she found she was drawn to it.  _

_ Immediately she began to swim. Her arms stretched out in a desperate attempt to reach for the light.  _

_ Finally, she breached the surface, gasping for air. She fell into a dark red hallway, silvery liquid running down her face. Water tumbled around her and she stumbled to her feet.  _

_ She looked up to see a mirror gushing with the very water she had escaped. Her mind jumped into action and she raced towards the mirror to stop the water. As soon as her hands made contact, the water froze and she found herself staring into her own eyes.  _

_ She gasped and pulled her hands away. The mirror rippled. It wasn't her eyes she was looking into. It was another woman. She looked younger, with reddish-brown eyes and short chestnut hair that framed her face and curled at her chin. Her skin was ivory, a stark contrast to Frisk's own bronze skin. Both their souls were glowing with red light.  _

_ "I've been waiting for an audience with you," said the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. Frisk furrowed her brow and looked around the hall. It was nothing like any hall she had seen before. A crimson carpet ran along dark, mahogany wood. Several tables lined the walls, and vases of roses, pale pink, red, yellow and white filled them. There were many mirrors. Each mirror had the face of the woman who wasn't her.  _

_ It all felt strangely real. Frisk had become increasingly aware she was dreaming but everything in that room felt real. Even the draft of cool air blowing in from the hall felt real against her cheek. The warmth emanating from the small candles… the feel of the carpet against her feet.  _

_ "Where am I?" She asked. The woman who was not her smiled softly and waved her hand.  _

_ "A labyrinth of sorts… your mind is a very confusing place filled with dark memories and passageways that block you from navigating it. Not many people find it. But you're stuck here. It's your last refuge. Outside of these halls you belong—" Her face warped into the unmistakable face of  _ Muffet  _ and she lunged forward, "—TO ME!" She hissed.  _

_ Frisk gave a cry of terror as she stumbled against an in-table. The woman who was not her melted back into herself and she smiled sadly.  _

_ "Who are you?" asked Frisk with a fearful glint in her eyes. The woman looked at herself and frowned. She pointed down the hall.  _

_ "You already know who I am, although it might take a few moments to jog your memory," Frisk wandered down the hallway and came to a door. The first door she had seen since she had arrived in the Labyrinth. Her soul pulsed and she felt compelled to open it. Her hand reached forward involuntarily and grasped the door knob.  _

_ "You've sensed me before, although you didn't know why your soul was drawn to mine. Determined souls tend to magnetize. Ever since then I've been alert… and recently I've been released. I wanted to find you." Frisk tried to turn the door knob but it wouldn't budge. It was locked.  _

_ "So to answer your question… who am I? Well, I've been called many things. A sister… a daughter… the princess… the witch of Ebbot Mountain… but my name is Chara…" The door swung open and Frisk's eyes widened with the dawning realization. Chara! She knew Chara.  _

_ Her eyes laid upon a large room with a tomb in the center. The lid of the tomb was open, and a corpse was on the floor. Toriel. She recognized her immediately and tears welled in her eyes.  _

_ A body rose from the tomb. Chara. Her body was translucent and glowed with a tinge of red light. Frisk gasped as she stepped out of the tomb and reached for her.  _

_ "You have so much potential… but you have no idea what you are. What  _ we  _ are. Muffet does. Muffet will use you for as long as you prove profitable. She's done it before. She broke me… and I sense you are pondering the same question I did—" _

_ "—What did she do to you?" Chara turned her eyes away.  _

_ "She took away my freedom, she broke my will…But not nearly to the extent that she is doing to you," she whispered. Frisk and Chara were standing outside of the room and the door closed in their faces. Frisk didn't remember walking out.  _

_ "What do you want from me?" Chara grabbed her hand and forced her to look into her eyes. Her eyes lit up with blinding red light and that same light traveled down her veins to her finger tips. It shocked Frisk with an electric spark.  _

_ "I  _ need _ you to be stronger than me! I sense great power in you, power I had. I sense my spirit in you. We have unfinished business, we have a shared destiny. You know that you are not down here by accident. Muffet…  _ Asgore—  _ they want to stop us, they want to stay in their present reality, but they can't stop the tide of their fates, or the fate of the Monsters. They can't stop you, do not let them." Frisk's eyes widened at the words.  _

_ "You are determined. By all circumstances, by all adversity…You have survived and pushed forward. You have a fire in your soul. Don't allow Muffet to snuff it out. You are determined."  _

_ "Don't lose hope…You are determined!"  _

__ Frisk was filled with Determination. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Kathy stood in the burger emporium, her eyes shifting at the slightest movement. Ever since her encounter with Muffet and Moxie… no,  _ Frisk,  _ she was shaken to the core. 

Brittany had told her not to be paranoid and to just leave it alone. Kathy just couldn't though. She looked behind her shoulder every single night that she walked home. 

She glanced up when a man cleared his throat. 

"Hey, we're closing soon—oh! It's you. Kathy, right?" It was the clerk from the last time she had been there during the Equinox Olympics. She smiled softly at him. 

"That's me… and  _ Bryan _ …?" His smile encouraged her and they chuckled with shared memories. Two overworked employees of Mettaton's corporate machine. 

"How have ya been?" Asked Bryan. Kathy lowered her ears, her pupils turning to slits. Bryan immediately read her distress and he frowned. 

"I've been good…You?" She asked. Bryan didn't answer, he merely flicked his torn ear and hummed a disconcerting note. 

"I get off of work in about ten minutes. Do you want me to… ah shit, I don't know… walk you to the ferry station?" He asked as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Kathy glanced behind her shoulder. It would be nice to not be alone. She pursed her lips and nodded slowly. 

"Sure. I'd like that," she said. Bryan grinned and nodded curtly, before disappearing into the back to finish closing. Kathy waited nervously, checking over her shoulder every other second. 

She wished Brittany was there, but unfortunately Brittany had been called to help with a model's makeup for a photoshoot. Kathy's skills were more along the lines of fetching coffee and running errands. 

It wasn't too long before Bryan finished his duties and led her out of the emporium. Kathy watched as he pulled his work shirt off and replaced it with a black band t-shirt as they walked. He tore the hat off and shoved the two articles of clothing in a messenger bag. 

"I thought I wouldn't see you again. Mind if I smoke?" Asked Bryan. Kathy shook her head. 

"Not at all—could you, like, hand me one?" Bryan grinned and pulled out two cigarettes. He handed her one and flicked his lighter on, both cigarettes glinting with a red glow. They walked in silence as smoke fell from their lips. Kathy found she quite liked the companionship. 

"What is it like being Mettaton's assistant?" Kathy frowned as she took a drag from her cig. She avoided his eyes as she thought up a good enough answer. 

"It's… fantastic," she murmured with hardly any gusto. He grimaced and held up his paw. It was completely covered by a third degree burn, the scars strangling any fur trying to grow back. Kathy flinched at the sight. 

"Remember when he caught me trying to steal glamburgers? He came into the kitchen and forced my hand into a vat of frying oil. Sometimes he comes in just to fuck with me…" he murmured. Kathy's eyes widened with horror. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He shrugged nonchalantly, his hand retreating back into his pants pocket. 

"I… he's never done anything like that to me but…like, sometimes he threatens to fire me and then… offers ways to, like,  _ make it up to him.  _ I've never said no. I never thought I had the option," she whispered. Bryan clenched his jaw and hesitantly reached out and squeezed her shoulder. 

"Hey, we ought to stick together then, eh?" He suggested. She smiled and took another drag of her cigarette. She threw her head back and blew out a thick plume of smoke. 

"Totally," she said with a smile. The two giggled as they jogged down the stairs into the station. 

"Hey thanks for doing this. I've been really scared as of late… I've got a big fear of spiders and, well… heh, forget about it." Bryan shot her a concerned look. She smiled at him and swiped her card to pay for the boat fare. 

"Are you sure you're gonna be ok?" He asked. She nodded. 

"I'm just paranoid. I'll be fine. Thanks. It was nice hanging out with you Bryan… maybe we should…like, go out for coffee or dinner sometime?" She asked with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. It would be nice to have a life outside of work. 

Bryan grinned a huge smile and nodded, his tail curling with joy at the mere suggestion. 

"Oh shit, really? I mean, yeah! No I'd totally be down. That sounds fuckin' amazing. Sign me up," he said with a small, awkward laugh. She giggled and ruffled the fur on his head. 

"How does Friday night sound then?" She asked. He smiled and fixed the fur on his head.

"Sounds good. Eight?" She nodded and the two gazed at each other. The ferry arrived too soon and she waved him goodbye before climbing aboard. 

As they departed from one another, Kathy's smile softened and she blushed. At least she had one thing going for her. At least she had something keeping her grounded. 

The ferry would stop one more time before she would get off at her stop. So far the ride had been rather quiet. She was the only patron. She preferred it that way. 

The ferry came to a stop and a man got on. His features were almost unidentifiable, other than the flicker of black fire licking at his coat. 

Kathy tried to ignore the man, but it seemed like every other minute he was eyeing her. All her previous fear and paranoia came rushing back. 

She practically sprinted out of the ferry once she came to her stop. She lived on the poorer side of the Core. Closer to the power plants. It was falling apart. The resources for the lower class were at their lowest.  _ The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.  _ The purge's were supposed to free up resources, but it didn't do anything except tear families apart and put them further into poverty. It was a direct pipeline to the prisons and therefore into the Purge. There was a popular conspiracy that circulated through the lower class that stated King Dreemur was losing his mind and taking them all with him. 

Kathy's eyes shrunk into fearful slits when she heard a double in footsteps. She thought she was alone. She turned her head over her shoulder to peak behind her. The man from the subway was keeping pace behind her.

Her heart jumped into her throat, but she tried not to jump to conclusions.  _ He's probably just in the same neighborhood as me.  _ He wasn't. She had lived here for years and had taken that ferry every single day. He had never showed up once in her commute besides tonight. It wasn't a coincidence. 

Her mind turned to the other night. Frisk.  _ Muffet.  _ Muffet was trying to take her out! 

Kathy pounced into a run. She was lucky she had her Tabaxi agility. She wasn't the skinniest, but damn it, she was still a feline.

Just as she assumed, the man took off after her. He was  _ fast… _ whatever he was. 

Kathy's breath grew heavy, her legs like lead as she raced through the streets. She heard the flare of fire and screamed as she glanced back to see him flying across the street. Black fire plumed behind him and boosted his speed. 

She tried to avoid alleyways and find large crowds. She couldn't go home because that would lead him right to her door. If Muffet wanted her dead, these occurrences would be relentless. 

She found a small group of pedestrians and joined the fringes of their group as they walked into a bar. The assassin came to a stop and watched her, stalking behind her like a lion on the prowl. 

He followed her into the bar and she shouldered her way through drunk monsters. She was sure he had lost sight of her in the rowdy crowd, but she couldn't underestimate him. If Muffet sent him, he was good at his job. She had to be better. 

Kathy's ears flattened and she tried to stifle the tears welling in her eyes as she tripped her way into the  _ employees only _ room. 

"Hey, what—you're not allowed back here!" Protested a young cook. She shoved past him and wove through the hall until she made it to the back door. She threw it open and took off running. 

"She went that way… what's it to you?"  _ Shit!  _ She sped up, her lungs heaving for air. 

As she raced through the streets to find her way home, the man stepped out of the shadows and stopped her with an outstretched hand. She stumbled back onto her ass and screamed. 

"Please, no!" She cried. The man held out his hands and peeled away black leather gloves. Black fire burst out and flickered in the air. She could feel the warmth on her cheek and smell the acrid smoke wafting off of him. She scurried back, trying to find an opening to escape. 

Before she could bolt, he grabbed the scruff of her neck, his hands burning into her skin. She stiffened at the move. So many people had grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and it was always revolting. Her claws came out and she hissed. 

As her hand slashed at him, he grabbed her wrist. She cried out in pained terror and frustration, tears streaming down her face. Why was she so weak!? He held a flickering finger up to his lipless face and she croaked with distress. As monsters walked down the streets and glanced at them, they turned their eyes down and hurried past. 

Her fur caught on fire, and her skin burned under the intense heat. She screamed as he dragged her into an alley, his fire searing into her skin and devouring her. 

It wasn't long before her body turned to dust, and then that dust into ash. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Muffet tries not to get her hands dusty... That's what Dante's for. Also CHARA! 
> 
> Up Next: Sans and Flowey come up with a plan to save Frisk.


	52. Night Terrors

Chapter Fifty-Two: Night Terrors

* * *

Haunted. He was haunted. 

_ The shadow stood in the corner, as black matter oozed along his walls. He couldn't breath, or at least, breath didn't come easily to him.  _

He couldn't wake up, even though he was awake. Every night. It had only gotten worse after the masquerade. It was like his father's ghost was punishing him. 

_ WD Gaster's cracked, grinning face floated closer to him as he lay there, noiselessly, despite the urge to scream. He was saying something, but his words were jumbled, almost glitching through reality. Was this just a dream?  _ Or was it real?  __

_ The door cracked open and Sans and WD Gaster both turned their heads slowly as light spilled in. The silhouette of a small woman stood in the doorway. He strained his eyes to see who it was, and panic spiked in his soul and mind when it dawned on him that  _ Frisk was standing in his doorway. 

_ He looked at his father's looming figure, and his cracked, ghostly skull slowly turned back to him.  _

**_"Looks like she's joined us…"_ **

Sans jolted awake. Frisk was gone. She was never there. He clenched his jaw and dragged himself out of bed. He couldn't sleep, and the fact he had even dozed off weighed on his guilt-ridden soul.

How was he going to rescue Frisk from that evil woman? How would he make everything up to her? What spell had been put on Frisk? 

Only one person could answer all of his questions, and Sans figured he might as well try to reach out. It was about time he got over himself and actually had conversations.

He left his room and crept down the hall to Frisk's former room. He hesitated at the door and grimaced before slowly twisting the door knob and sliding in.

Inside, Flowey was staring out the window. Looks like they were both sleepless. He stood in the doorway for a moment, collecting the atmosphere and watching the flower as he observed the falling snow. Eventually, Sans cleared his throat and went to sit on the bed. 

Flowey flinched and glanced behind him with an annoyed glint in his beady eyes. 

"Jesus…Do you always just show up out of nowhere?" He grumbled sleepily. Sans chuckled half-heartedly. 

"You saw her. Papyrus told me you left… God. I should've known it was Muffet. She's had her eyes on Frisk since the first time they met. I can't even imagine what she's doing to her. Probably poisoning her and exploiting her for profit. She would've done the same thing to Chara… nevermind." Sans listened. He tried not to think of the vacant look in Frisk's eyes. The bruises on her skin. The stench of sex on her body. He tried not to think of the pictures… or the way Muffet had gotten some sort of sick satisfaction out of making him beg on his knees. 

"She had a spell on her. I couldn't save her. Not with magic. Muffet had wanted to hold her power over me. She had full control over her. She had turned her into this fucking puppet—"

"—Wait… what kind of spell? I don't know why but something about that sounds familiar…" murmured Flowey. Sans glanced at him with a curious look on his face. 

"This shimmering, magic, purple thread. It was connecting their souls. It made Frisk do whatever she wanted her to do, and… Muffet, that  _ bitch…  _ I can't hurt her or kill her without it hurting Frisk. Tch I'm pretty sure that last part was just a lie but—"

"—It's not a lie. My mother wrote that spell… Muffet must have her spell book. Or at least one of them…" murmured Flowey. Sans's eyes widened and he glanced away as a plan formulated in his mind. His eyelights flickered and he grinned. 

"That's it then. If your mother wrote spells, then she  _ has  _ to have a counter spell. We can help Frisk." Flowey glanced at Sans and he frowned. 

"Why did you do it?" He whispered. Sans shot him an alarmed look, before his face melted into a shamed grimace. 

"I was an idiot. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, right? Looking back on it… I could've stopped Papyrus. I could've argued a little harder instead of caving. I could've refused to do it. Hell! When he stumbled and changed his mind—I could've kept my mouth shut!" He fell back on the bed and hid his face in his hands as he let out a frustrated growl. 

Flowey flinched before he gave a soft sigh and lay back too. 

"I have no idea how I'm going to make it up to her if…  _ when  _ we get her back. She deserves so much more than anything I can give her. But God damn it… I'd do anything to see her smile, to make her happy. Even if it meant joining the Angelicans… or never seeing her again." Sans sighed in defeat. Flowey's eyes softened and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. 

"Yeah… she  _ does  _ deserve better than you—"

"—Ok asshole, no need to rub it in—"

"—Let me finish. You have to prepare yourself for her rejection… or for her acceptance and forgiveness. For some reason she saw something in you… and I've seen the way your souls glisten and the way you look at each other. I don't think it's a coincidence you met… but… winning her back isn't going to be easy." Sans listened as he stared out the window. He clenched his jaw at the words. 

"I want you to know… I've been here the whole time. I've seen how much you've cared and tortured yourself to get her back. To make sure she was safe. Maybe I'll put in a good word to her," said Flowey with a wink. Sans chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully. 

"Like some kind of wingman?" Flowey and Sans both laughed at the notion. Who could've seen that outcome? Sans had never actually pictured himself becoming friends with a damned daffodil. 

"Sure. You could use one pal, you're hopeless," he teased. Sans scoffed and shook his head in dismay. 

"Bull-fuckin'-shit! Believe it or not, I have quite the way with women," grunted Sans. Flowey cackled at the statement. 

"What are you two doing up so early?" Grumbled a groggy Papyrus as he slipped into the room. Sans sat up, a flicker of remorse passing over his face. 

"Sorry we woke you bro," murmured Sans. Papyrus's skull-grin went taut into a grimace and he sighed. 

"I couldn't sleep anyway. Sans… I want to… apologize. For everything." The lights in Sans's eyes went dim and he looked away. 

"No. I want to apologize. I've been unfair to you. You were just doing what you thought was the right thing and—"

"—Absolutely  _ not.  _ When the Great Papyrus apologizes, you do not  _ argue. _ " Sans's grin softened and he held out his arm. 

"I hope the Great Papyrus likes hugs from his big brother then, because I think we could all use one," he said softly. Papyrus's eyes twinkled with an old, but familiar gleam and he embraced his older brother. The two sighed with relief as the ice between them was finally allowed to melt. 

Flowey smiled softly before wheezing as Papyrus yanked him into the hug. 

They all pulled away and Sans heaved himself back to his feet. 

"I have a plan. Flowey, we're going to find a counter spell in one of your mother's spell books… we'll use Doug to buy time with Frisk and then we'll strike. We'll undo the spell and get her the fuck out of there. Whatever happens next is beyond me," he murmured. Flowey's eyes brightened. 

"We'll search my mother's home and the temple today then after you get back from work, you can discuss details with Doug," he said. Sans and Papyrus nodded, a glimmer of hope igniting in their souls. They still had  _ hope.  _

⁂

Doug stood in Bonnie's shop, his eyes dark with dread. Ever since Sans had told him about Frisk's disappearance, he had been besides himself with grief and dread. Especially after they discovered Muffet was the one who had her. 

He was no stranger to the Black Widow. There had been a time before the Guard when he had made his money through more… illegal means. He couldn't believe he hadn't connected the dots. Then again, he wasn't the only one kicking themselves over not realizing it sooner. 

"Any luck finding Moxie?" Asked Bonnie. Doug flattened his ears and shook his head with a doggish whine. Bonnie frowned, a melancholic darkness falling over her. 

"Oh… it just doesn't make sense. She's been gone what… a month now? I just don't know where she could be, or why she hasn't turned up yet," she murmured. Doug grunted and took the brown paper bag carrying his cinna-buns. 

"Well, now that I f'ink of it, we have gotten information. Uh… so we know where she is, we just don't know how to get her back," he murmured as he dug through his wallet. Bonnie smiled softly and put a hand on his. 

"It's on the house, suga'..." She said with a soft smile. Doug sniffed and smiled back before he whimpered and ran a stressed hand over his head. 

"She's with Muffet… We f'ink," he said. Bonnie's eyes widened and she visibly paled. She, like Doug, was no stranger to Muffet. 

"No…" Doug nodded sadly. Before they could discuss this new information, the door banged open with a clang and Sans tore inside. 

"Doug! There you are, I've been lookin' all over for ya! Hey Bon," he said as he clasped Doug by the arm and dragged him out. Bonnie gasped and jogged out with them. 

"Do you have a plan to find Moxie?" Asked Bonnie. Sans glanced back at her and grimaced. 

"More or less," he murmured. Red smoke surrounded the Lycan and Reaper, and like that they were gone from the street. 

  
  


⁂

The two found themselves inside of the patrol station and Doug stumbled into a chair as Sans leaned against the wall. 

"I saw Frisk yesterday—" 

"—What!?" Barked Doug, his tail wagging until he realized that Sans wasn't so happy. Doug's ears drooped and he sat back down. Sans nodded, his eyes going black. 

"Muffet is… prostituting her." Doug whined at the words, his eyes widening as his worst fears were realized.

"I tried to get her out but… Muffet has a spell on her. Flowey told me it was called the Arachni's Thread. It was written by his mom, whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean," he grunted. Doug shot Sans a puzzled glance. 

"Flowey has a mom?" Sans waved off the question. 

"I have a plan. You can thank flower power for helping me cook it up. I need you. Muffet doesn't suspect you. She doesn't know we'd be working together." Doug nodded along before frowning as he came to the same conclusion Sans had. 

"Where is this going?" He murmured. Sans bit back his own jealousy and shrugged. 

"In order for us to break the spell, we need to get her alone. The only way to do that is if someone I trust buys time with Frisk," he said. Doug clenched his jaw. He immediately understood. 

"You know I'd do anything to help her, so… shit, I'm in," he said firmly. Sans nodded and the two clasped hands and gave each other a firm shake. 

"We'll get her back." 

⁂

_ A red hallway. Crimson carpets and vases filled with roses. Mirrors that lined the wall. She was still here. Voices echoed through the hallway and the mirrors played images. She turned away from the ones that showed Mettaton and Muffet.  _

_ She found herself drawn to the mirrors that played images of Sans. She touched the mirror and it rippled.  _

_ "You always used to ask me what I wanted… I know what I want…" Her breath hitched and she felt her throat well.  _

_ "Yes?" She whispered, her voice cracking. She could almost feel his arms around her. Cradling her.  _

_ "I want to be yours, Frisk. I want to be with you, I want to protect you, and… and— shit—I… I want to love you. I do love you. Frisk… I love you. I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise… and this time, I'm not gonna break it." Tears spilled out of her eyes and her lip curled. She let out a choked, breathy sob and stumbled back against a table.  _

_ The memory faded away and she found herself staring back at herself.  _

_ "Chara!" She croaked. She glanced around and hugged her arms close to her. All the halls looked the same. She had wandered for what felt like hours. She was tired, but she was dreaming, wasn't she? Nothing made sense.  _

_ The mirror rippled and Chara's face replaced hers. That milky skin and Auburn hair.  _

_ "Are you ok?" She asked with alarm. Frisk raked a hand through her hair.  _

_ "I need to get out of here! I'm going insane." Chara frowned at her words.  _

_ "Do you know the way out?" She asked. Frisk's lips trembled and she glanced around her. Every hallway looked the same.  _

_ "I think I'm having a really bad high. That's the only explanation right?" She breathed. Chara shrugged. _

_ "This is your mind. I guess it took a drug to solidify it into your consciousness," she said. Frisk groaned with frustration and wiped her eyes.  _

_ "I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. Ok… ok it's my mind right? I should be able to control it, right?" She asked. Chara glanced around.  _

_ "In theory. It's a maze of memories and trauma. For a long time you've blocked your trauma with the determination in your soul. But it's overcome you—" _

_ "—A drug and a spell has overcome me—"  _

_ "—You don't know how to use determination. So trauma has overcome you with the help of a drug and a spell. It's why you're here and not in your material consciousness." Frisk wanted to scream.  _

_ "How do I use determination then!? I thought it was only a way to magnify magic and…And—" _

_ "—And what? Keep you alive? Kick in when you're in the most dangerous of situations, or when your emotions get the best of you? That's a basic level understanding of what you can do. I would say you've only scratched the surface, but you haven't reached it. If determination were an iceberg, you wouldn't have even seen the tip… you'd be the Titanic." Chara seemed to laugh at that fact and Frisk frowned.  _

_ "Alright, I get it… is there any way you could help me?" She asked. Chara considered her request and hummed in thought.  _

_ "Yes. I can give information here, but unfortunately I can't help you hone your skills while we're trapped." Frisk nodded in understanding. She dipped into her thoughts that seemed to echo against the walls. Chara rose a brow as she listened to the thoughts reverberating through the wind and floorboards.  _

_ "This place is like a labyrinth right?" Her eyes brightened and she stood up. Chara nodded. Suddenly everything clicked.  _

_ "I need Alexander!" She exclaimed. Chara rose a brow and glanced at the mirrors as the image of the Minotaur melted into view.  _

_ "A Minotaur… he has the gift?" She asked. Frisk smiled and nodded.  _

_ "With his help, I might be able to get out of here. In the meantime… tell me more about determination," she said as she slid down the wall to sit on the carpet. Chara smiled and leaned against the mirror frame.  _

_ "Where do I even begin…?"  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Flowey and Sans— an unlikely friendship. Also Family Man Sans? Here to stay. 
> 
> Up Next: Frisk's rescue...


	53. Spears of Justice

**A/N: Hey! This is an intense chapter but before we get into it, ART DUMP!**

[Sans and Nick rocking out](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a51a2418b695257b7d7108f27e65ba99/63582d2abfd53c18-05/s2048x3072/221575dea54ea13bb20757a9f2e854b17e957124.jpg)

[General Undyne Leviathan](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4c6040bfca48f3ea0cd80f86093efc50/a2528d835e3ea9ff-71/s2048x3072/d34ad5568544376bbd0d35f5e6ca9c781cf1275f.jpg)

[Alexander, Dante and Julian](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bfd8aab75e5ff70e792069992ca4cbf1/a7f1bc888998dbb8-8a/s2048x3072/46c3cc0ebdb9af79f99e8d05c98c238a51dddf1c.jpg)

[SoLYGBM Sans and WDYW Sans discussing their respective Frisks.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8e8047440dfdcf280ebf7c1b2664879c/5f9dc383bdef99c6-07/s2048x3072/77badbfbfb3cd43ad01ce65cc3ba0f90eff42bd8.jpg)

**(I hope to God I haven't already posted these on here.) Ok! Buckle up buttercups! Enjoy Chapter 53~**

* * *

Chapter Fifty-Three: Spears of Justice 

* * *

Once again, Sans found himself at the bottom of those insipid stairs to the Ruins. Why were they here? Is this where his mother was? Who even was his mother? A tree? 

One thing was for sure though… There was no way he was climbing up all those stairs again. Red smoke surrounded Flowey and him, and they found themselves back in front of the door. 

It was open. The door to the ruins was wide open and broken. Flowey glanced away as Sans shot him a look. Sans remembered what Frisk had told him long ago. That her ex husband had killed Queen Dreemur. He tried not to think about it. 

He stepped into the doorway and took in the scene of the ruined temple. There was something eerily beautiful about it. Crumbling statues of old gods and kings, stained glass windows. There was a building that connected to the main Cathedral. It seemed garishly out of place. A cottage. 

"Let's check there," said Flowey. Sans nodded and started forward to the two story cottage that didn't belong wedged between two cathedrals. Who was he to judge though? He had never been an architect in his life. 

The back door was unlocked and swung open far too easily.  _ I guess the old lady didn't have very good security.  _ He crept through the drafty hallway covered in dust and he held his breath. 

"Is there anything down here?" He asked. Flowey shook his head. 

"No, the only thing down here are a few storage rooms, a laundry room and a tomb," he said. Sans rose a puzzled brow bone. 

"A tomb?—"

"—Not important—"

"—tch, ok then," he murmured as he climbed up the rickety stairs to the second floor. The second story was a lot more homely. It was a weird layout for a house. A main foyer and two long hallways. It was completely dead of any life. Smelled like dust. 

"Mom's room is down that hallway," murmured Flowey. Sans froze at those words and Flowey shrunk back when he realized what he had just implied. 

"Is there something I should know?" He asked as a growing suspicion formed in his mind. Flowey smiled sheepishly and shrugged. 

"Guess I wasn't very subtle… I um… I'm the— I'm prince Asriel." Sans burst out laughing at that revelation. Flowey frowned. 

"Wait, you're serious?" He nodded and Sans went quiet. 

⁂

Undyne shifted uncomfortably as she made her way to Hotland. The ferry was extremely overcrowded. People didn't even have room to make for her, and she knew they wanted to by the apologetic and fearful looks being shot her way. 

She sighed and shouldered her way through the bodies of people as she got to her stop. Something felt off about today. She had woken up and had immediately wanted to go back to sleep. This was her one day off too! The one day she could hang out with Alphys. 

So with that thought, she had dragged her ass out of bed despite her clawing depression desperately trying to keep her in place. She was more than that. 

She downed a water bottle as she trekked through the city of Hotland. Hopefully Alphys hadn't forgotten it was their day today. 

As she made her way into Alphys's lab, that same feeling she had when she woke up hit her in the gut. Suddenly she wanted to turn back around and get back on the ferry. But… she was more than her mind. She may have been a coward…but she was Alphys's hero. She had to be there for her. 

So she shoved that bad feeling down and forced herself to continue into that laboratory. 

As she walked down those sterile, white hallways, rubbing aloe vera on her arms, she called out for her girlfriend. No response. She tried to remind herself that this was what usually happened. Alphys's lab was huge. She wasn't just going to hear her… 

Undyne called again. No answer. The last time this had happened was the week before the masquerade!  _ Alphys was fine last time. Everything is ok. Calm down. _

"ALPHYS!" Undyne wandered aimlessly through the maze like halls and her heart rate began to rise as anxiety flooded her. Her first thoughts immediately jumped to overdose. No, that couldn't be right, because she had taken all of her heroin and opioids. 

Alphys's name rang through the halls and Undyne checked every door she could find that was open or clear. Each one was sealed closed and only opened after a fingerprint scan. Still, she knocked and banged on windows. 

Then she came to a break room. The TV was on, playing one of the Studio Ghibli films Undyne had scavenged for her. 

"Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me. You have to stop—Alphys?" Undyne froze when she saw Alphys's limp body on the floor. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she felt herself go weak. 

"Alphys!?" She stumbled as she moved into a dash for her side. All of her worst fears were realized! She grasped Alphys and pulled her into her arms. Her first action was checking her pulse. It was beating… slowly, hardly even there but still present. Undyne clasped her wrist and held it up. Recent track marks ran up her scaley skin. Undyne choked with disbelief. 

"What did you do?" She practically barked as tears filled her eye. Alphys gave a soft whine and gurgled, completely unresponsive. Undyne forced her eyes open and saw a vacant, lightless expression. She was completely drugged out. 

"No!" She growled through clenched teeth. She glanced over to see a vial laying on the floor beside her. Undyne snatched it up and strained to see the marking on the glass. A violin. 

She turned it up to see the needle. It was a spider, who's mandibles injected the fluid. She held up Alphys's wrist and took a closer look at the track marks. Two small holes right beside each other. They weren't normal tracks either. They looked swollen… like spider bites. Her eyes widened and she jolted up. There was only one person she knew that could be connected with this, but so far, that woman was untouchable. 

Undyne knew that much but… that's not where Alphys got this. That's not who Alphys got any of her drugs from. She got that vial from only one person, and Undyne clenched her fist around the glass. It shattered in her hand and dust spilled out of the cracks between her fingers. She didn't care. For the first time in a long time, a fire ignited in her soul.

She was going to make Mettaton pay!

  
  


⁂

  
  


"Wait— no! How is that possible!?" Flowey shrunk back as Sans demanded answers from him. 

"It's not that big of a deal, let's just get back to the search—"

"—Shut the fuck up! The prince died, my dad was there! My mom tried and failed to heal him! What do you fuckin' mean you're the prince? You're a Goddamn daisy!" Growled Sans with dismay. This whole time he was housing a  _ Dreemur?  _

"Yes! I'm the prince ok!? I've been hiding it because—well, it's impossible! I mean, I don't even really know how… But… I'm also ashamed! I know what my family's history has been. I wanted to completely forget about that, my past… but Frisk, I don't know!" Sans was completely dumbfounded. He didn't know how to feel. The prince? 

Hadn't the king gone completely off the rails after his son died? And then…He was just alive again as a  _ flower!? _

"The fucking prince…what the fuck am I supposed to do with that information?" He snarled. Flowey groaned and hid his seedy face in his leaves. 

"It doesn't matter. I've denounced Asgore—"

"—No! It fucking does matter… hold on, just shut up. I need to think about this." With that the subject was dropped, but not forgotten. A tense silence hung in the air and neither Flowey nor Sans dared break it as they rummaged through antiquities and stacks of books and papers. 

Sans couldn't focus. First Frisk now the lost prince? Had Frisk known about this? She probably did. The two were glued together. He was almost jealous. They had shared a room together and everything. Frisk? Sharing a room with a damn Dreemur!?  _ He's a flower, Sans.  _ Didn't change the fact he was still the prince of the underworld. Apples never fell far from their tree. 

_ That's not fair. Flowey has been nothing but good and helpful to Frisk, and even to you. You of all people should know not everyone ends up like their fathers.  _ You  _ of all people should know what it's like to hate your own father and want to denounce that part of you _ , the reasonable side of him argued. It seemed like something Frisk would say. God, he wished she was there. 

Sans glanced at Flowey and grimaced as he pulled a book out from a pile near the old, disheveled bed. He flipped through it and let out a breathy, half-hearted chuckle. It was a joke book. Looks like the Prince of Daisies's mother had good taste… 

He felt bad for snapping at him. The kid hadn't done anything wrong. Hell even when he was Asriel, he had been a pretty stand up guy despite his father.

Or at least that's what Sans's mother had always said when she served as the royal physician. Took more after the queen than the tyrant. Maybe it was a good thing he was alive. Maybe it was a sign that change could happen…

For a long time Sans hadn't believed change was possible. Yet… perched on his shoulder was living proof that the impossible was possible. 

He let himself feel invigorated instead of angry. Sans sighed and looked back at the flower. 

"Well this explains why I didn't like you at first…" he let the joke hang in the air as Flowey frowned with confusion painted on his seedy brow. Slowly they both cracked and Sans and Flowey both burst out laughing. 

"Christ, I  _ hate you _ ," grumbled Flowey. Sans snickered as he got on his stomach to search under the bed. 

"Should I even call you Flowey? That name has always been kind of stupid," he quipped. Flowey rolled his eyes and glanced down as Sans dragged a chest out from under the bed. 

"Listen, it was the first thing I could think of when Frisk asked my name," he said. Sans chuckled as he took the rusted lock in hand and twisted it until it snapped. Flowey's eyes widened at the move, but he didn't address it. 

"Wow… how creative… I guess it runs in the family," he grunted. Flowey blushed if it were possible to blush and he nodded along. 

"I guess it does… I ran away from it for a long time. I'm done running away now. From now on, just call me Asriel. That's who I am. Asriel." Sans hummed in response as he pulled out a thick ledger. 

"Ok…  _ Asriel.  _ It's gonna take a bit to get used to," he said as he flipped the pages. Both their eyes widened. They had found it. Toriel's book of spells. 

⁂

Muffet glanced down as her pager beeped while she sat in a lounge. She was at MTT resort letting Mettaton use her product. She hummed her curiosity and read the message. 

Her eyes lit up when she saw who it was from. The manager of the Diamond Sun Casino. She crowed with delight.  _ Caught them. Waiting for you.  _

"How lovely…" she glanced up where she knew Mettaton's penthouse was. He and Frisk were just now starting. He had booked a two hour session… hopefully that would give her enough time to get to her Casino and back if she hurried. 

Muffet pursed her lips and slipped her purse over her shoulder as she hurried to the elevator to ground level. 

As she left the entrance of the resort, a body shoved past her and she growled her distaste. She glanced back to see the wisp of a red pony tail disappear in the crowd. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't pursue it. She had a thief to teach a lesson to, and there was no way she was going to miss up that opportunity. So with that, she left the resort. 

Undyne glanced behind her, but shrugged off the jostle and shoved past the crowd of resort goers. Mettaton was either in his office, studio or in his penthouse. She would find him and rip him apart bolt by bolt for dealing Alphys drugs. 

She had been doing so well! What had happened? Her job must've been awfully stressful. She must've had a lapse and went to Mettaton. Undyne was infuriated. 

"OUT OF MY WAY!" The crowd surrounding her cried out as she summoned a spear in her hands. She jumped into a run and scaled the stairs as screams roused in the lobby. 

She arrived in the offices and shattered the glass wall. The secretary jumped up, his face aghast with both fear and dismay. She summoned another spear and tackled him against the wall. 

"Tell me where Mettaton is!" She ordered. He immediately gave her his location. Penthouse. She tossed him away and climbed out of the office, her boots crunching on the glass that littered the floor. 

She took off to the stairs once more. She knew the elevator would lock and not allow her access to the penthouse floor.  _ That damn robot! _

Undyne practically flew up the building in her rage and when she got to the penthouse floor, she drove her spear against the lock. It crackled with electricity and shattered, a loud ring resounding. She burst the door open and pounced into the Penthouse. 

"Mettaton!" She snarled. Undyne heard the sound of a woman cry and a clanking. She growled and bolted for the bedroom. She rushed the door; it cracked and gave way to her body. 

Mettaton was buttoning his pants just as she stumbled inside and he gave a nervous laughter at the sight of her. 

"General Leviathan, I don't remember making—" Undyne lunged for him and he screamed. She threw her spear and it lodged in his shoulder, the metal rupturing and sparks flying. 

"GAH! Who do you think you are!?" Cried Mettaton. Undyne grabbed his head in her hand and slammed it against the wall. 

"You gave Alphys drugs! You knew she was trying to go clean and you ruined her chance at sobriety! You fucking asshole! You selfish asshole! I know you only did it so Alphys would be indebted to you!" She screamed as she bashed his robot head against the wall. Mettaton was screeching his horror. 

Undyne pulled the spear out and tossed it on the ground as she let him crumble. 

"It wasn't me!" He blubbered, but she knew it was a lie and she didn't want to hear it. 

That's when she heard the moan of distress from under the covers. Mettaton shot up and grabbed her. 

"No! That's not—" she shoved him away and jerked the covers off. Her eye widened in horror when she saw the woman below her. Naked, beaten, almost lifeless if not for the heaving of her chest… but more importantly…  _ human.  _

Her soul spiked and her heart seemed to soar with a mixture of panic, disgust and despair. A human!? There was a human right there! And Mettaton was having sex with her! Undyne snatched the human up by the neck and she gave a small cry. That's when Undyne saw the track marks on her arms. Spider bites. She was under the same drug! 

"You have a human?" She snarled. Mettaton went deathly silent before a spark of anger lit in his eyes and he swung at her. She dodged by a hair and grabbed his arm. The two wrestled out of the bedroom and she threw him off balance. 

He skidded, his extra arms scraping the ground as they pushed him back to his feet. 

“You’re nothing compared to me, Undyne, just the King’s guard dog that comes running to his beck and call…” He caught her fist, now much more prepared for a fight than he was ten seconds ago. His other arm grabbed a knife from a set and swung for her. Dust puffed into the air as he sliced through her collar bone. 

“You and Alphys are perfect for each other. You’re pathetic and she’s even  _ more  _ pathetic than you are!” She growled at the words and shifted her weight, practically throwing her leg into his stomach. He grunted and stumbled back, but his arm grabbed her boot and she was dragged to the ground. 

“Alphys built you!” Snarled Undyne as she kicked up at his crotch. She rolled over on her back and placed a hand firmly on her new wound that was pouring dust onto the clean floor. 

A peel of laughter emanated from his voice box and he shook his head. 

“Ah yes, the one successful thing she’s ever done… and she knows it. That’s why she drowns herself in toxins. Asgore only keeps her around out of sheer necessity… but she’ll never live up to her predecessor—” Undyne punched him across the face with a shout of rage. 

“Shut up, you  _ useless _ fucking pile of glitter!” She twisted and crashed her elbow into his side as she turned against him. He grabbed her neck in a choke hold, his other two arms clasping her wrists. She shouted and stomped into his foot. 

“I’m a robot, Undyne.” Everything happened in a matter of seconds. He strained his metal arms and began to twist her neck. Undyne screamed as the pain coiled in her throat and she reached into her soul for her magic. A warmth hummed in her hands and a spear shot out. 

Mettaton screamed as his body was impaled through the chest. She wrestled out from his flailing arms and summoned another spear that she crashed into his collar. He went down, twitching as electricity surged through him. 

“You fucking bitch!” His voice box was ruined, his voice distorted into something grotesque and mechanical. She shuddered at the noise and stumbled away. Her job was done and she felt her rage begin to drain away along with her energy. She had expended much of her energy. 

As she turned to leave, something stopped her and she glanced back at the bedroom. The human…  _ Just kill her and put the wretched thing out of her misery.  _ Two birds with one stone. Be the hero everyone needed, not just the one Alphys needed…The last soul to free monster kind. Kill her, take her soul… and hell, it would probably be doing her a favor. 

She nodded to herself and stepped over Mettaton’s frying body, he was still alive, but he made no move to stop her.

The woman was laying in the bed, tears streaming down her lightless eyes. Undyne froze as she took in the woman, now not focused or enraged at Mettaton. She was a small thing, but she was beautiful. Undyne had always heard that humans were a desirable race… but she had never seen one up close. She was enchanting… 

_ Just kill her…  _

Her body seemed to move on its own. She took the woman into her arms and draped a sheet over her. Now cradling her sworn enemy, Undyne vacated the penthouse, leaving nothing but a twitching, howling, and broken celebrity behind in her wake. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


There was a human in her house… She didn't know what she was going to do with her, but something had stopped her from going straight to Asgore, or killing her point blank. Maybe it was the fact she didn't want him to have any more power, maybe it was because she had the same tracks as Alphys… or maybe it was the strange effect she had on her. She tried not to think about that, however, and instead focused her mind on the image of the spider bite tracks. 

If she knew what the drug's effects were, maybe she could ween Alphys off of it effectively. The human could be her... Guinea Pig? 

She raked a hand through her hair and sighed. What was she even going to do with a human? She looked braindead. Would Undyne have to bathe and clothe her? She groaned at the thought. 

"Ok…" she murmured as she traipsed down her spiral staircase and into the guest bathroom. The human was lying in the bathtub. She hadn't known where else to put her. She might throw up or piss herself. The bathtub seemed like a safer, cleaner place. 

She had so many bruises. Especially on her inner thighs and ass. Undyne felt sick to her stomach the longer she stared. She was supposed to hate humans, and she did… but this was just sickening. 

"Alright, here's the deal…" she murmured as she turned on the faucet. The girl stirred, but her eyes never lit up. 

"You're a human. You're supposed to be my enemy…  _ but  _ I need to be able to effectively help Alphys and I can't do that without you. Maybe… but um, you know, for as long as you're  _ like this?  _ I guess, I don't know… I'm not going to hurt you or anything… Jesus Christ, what am I doing? You're not going to talk back," she groaned into her hands. 

The woman trembled and she gagged. Undyne's eyes widened and she grabbed the trash can. She helped the woman curl over as she vomited. Undyne was used to this, she had gone through spells with Alphys. The human, however, was so small and fragile. Undyne was almost afraid that she would shatter. 

Tears streamed down the woman's face and Undyne frowned. 

"It's ok…you're safe for now." 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *sips fine wine like my name is Dionysus* 🍷😏 I told you that this chapter wouldn't be what you expected. 
> 
> Up Next: Muffet gets livid and her true intentions are revealed. Alexander goes searching for Undyne. 
> 
> If you like this story, please don't forget to leave feedback, a rec or a bookmark! And come hang out with me on Tumblr for exclusive content like What If One-shots, cool art and my general rambling about wdyw. 💕💕


	54. New Arrangement

Chapter Fifty-Three: New Arrangement 

* * *

An exhausting night had passed as Undyne helped the human. She had fallen asleep on the couch, only a few feet away from the bathroom. 

The human was completely unresponsive. Her comatose state was alarming. Undyne had tried to wake her up. Ice water, pinching, slapping, even fucking  _ tickling.  _ Pots and pans… music. Nothing had worked. She wasn't  _ just _ sleeping. Undyne felt hopeless about the entire ordeal. Why had she done this? Why had she made herself responsible? She just  _ had _ to stick her nose where it didn't belong. 

When morning had come around again, Undyne decided to stay home from work. She couldn't be at work with this human in her house. What if the human had belonged to someone affiliated with Mettaton? What if he tried to get her back?

Undyne couldn't let that happen, and so… As much as it had pained her to do so, she had called Papyrus and told him to come in for her. He was shocked and tried to press for her reasons, but Undyne had given none and merely hung up on him. 

She found her eye was drawn to the bathroom every second she wasn't in there. It was as if the center of gravity had shifted. She called Alphys to see if she had come out of the high. She was scared that her girlfriend was caught in the same comatose state as the human. She was practically biting her nails off before the phone picked up. 

"Hello? Undyne?... Undyne! I'm so sorry!" Undyne's eye welled up at the sound of Alphys's groggy voice. 

"What's the new drug, Alphys?" Growled Undyne. Alphys went silent. 

"I was desperate—"

"—I don't want excuses. What's the new drug? I'm going to try and help you out of this, but I need to know everything you know about it," she growled. Alphys was quiet and the silence stretched between them. 

"It's called Reclusion. I…you have to understand just how… just how  _ much  _ I need it! The  _ things  _ in my lab… They're something out of a horror movie and I have to be down there—" 

"—Alphys you need a break away from your work. It's damaging you, you're… And now you have a new addiction. I thought you were getting better." Alphys laughed at this and Undyne narrowed her eye. 

"Undyne I'm never going to get better as long as Asgore lord's over me with his… schemes, experiments and suicide missions… I need to get back to work." The phone line cut and Undyne was met with nothing but a dial tone. 

She groaned in exasperation and slammed the phone back into its stand. She let out a deep sigh and raked a hand through her dreads. Once again her eye was drawn to the bathroom door. She supposed it was time to tend to her… guest? 

Undyne made her way into the bathroom with a glass of water and a bottle of pills. She poured some into her hand, keeping a wary eye on the woman before her. She tried not to let the small fight with Alphys claw at her mind. She hated fighting. 

“I’m doing this for Alphys. She was on heroin…but uh, I got her off of it so I guess you’re in good hands.” She didn't know if that was true. What if Alphys refused her help? Was she wasting her time? 

She could only stare down at the woman. At the scars on her body. She had been whipped and beaten. Undyne grimaced at the sight. 

“Some people down here are real sickos… Alright, here, drink up.” Undyne opened the girl's mouth and forced the pills inside as she poured water down her throat. The human's body choked and gagged and Undyne seethed through her teeth. 

“Sorry… You know at least Alphys was semi-conscious… I really don’t know what’s wrong with you? You would think the effects would’ve worn off by now…” She trailed off and watched as the nameless woman breathed. Her brows were furrowed… was she dreaming? 

“You’re a good listener, right?” Undyne chuckled to herself. Sitting in a dark bathroom and talking to an unresponsive human woman seemed counter productive and quite stupid… but it was as if the words that came next were reeled out of her. 

“Ugh, that was shitty. Sorry. I guess I just get so fuckin’ lonely. Tch, like the only friend I have, like actually have, is Alphys. She means everything to me and if helping you means I can help her out of...whatever is going on with her, then I will have succeeded at… something." Of course there was no answer and the longer Undyne stared at her motionless face, the more frustrated with herself she became. 

"Ugh, what am I doing!? You’re a human!” Undyne threw her hands up and stormed out of the room. 

⁂

Alexander sat in the small back room of one of Muffet's many Casinos. When they had all heard the news that Frisk had been kidnapped, panic had surged through every one of their souls. More for the very real knowledge that Muffet might just have them all killed and replaced by more competent associates. Not Alexander though, he was panicking because Frisk was gone. He had hoped to find answers and act on them. He had to help her. 

Muffet herself stood still in front of all her most trusted associates. Julian absent for obvious reasons. Alexander couldn't even begin to imagine what horrors the Gaster brothers had put  _ him _ through. There was a part of him that was almost relieved that he was gone and out of his life. But he had always answered to a higher power than Julian… and she was furious. Even if her face was placid. 

"I turn my back for five seconds to deal with a pair of impudent robbers and what do I come back to find? A stupid robot with a hole in his chest and ten useless security guards who did nothing as my property was stolen. I should have you all killed… but I would prefer not to have to rehire and build trust with new desperate employees… consider yourselves lucky…" she paused to let her words hang ripe in the air. 

No one moved to speak. No one made a sound. Most went through painstaking efforts not to look her in the eyes. Six… Enraged… Black… Eyes. 

"With all due respect, ma'am—" the room froze as someone spoke out of turn. Muffet blinked slowly and turned her head to lock onto the man who dared speak. 

"No… You had something to say…  _ say it."  _ The man gulped and looked down at his hands. His breath grew shaky as he finished his thought, now a lot less confident than he had been a second ago. 

"It was General Leviathan. She was the one who took your human… she's… actually an authority and no one was going to step in her way. Not when she's right hand man to the king…" he trailed off and cleared his throat. Muffet eyed him with a calculating and icy stare. 

"I'm sorry… Right hand man to the king? Let me ask you something… who keeps the rabble happy so that there aren't any wide scale uprisings? Who pumps money into this dying economy? Who has a hand in  _ every  _ industry in this God forsaken underworld? Does Undyne do anything besides make a few speeches and arrest a few outlaws? And what of the king? What does he do? What does he do for any of you? Are you so afraid of a bitter, old man?" Silence. Muffet raised her chin and two of her arms folded over her chest. 

"Asgore is dying. Asgore has nothing left but his anger and hatred.  _ Asgore  _ is an angry, old man-child who died along with his simpering, brat of a corpse son. He's an old, bitter man with a suicide wish and he wants us all to go down with him. Undyne is his lap dog that carries out his bidding no questions asked. If he gets his hand on my human, who knows what he'll do with her soul. And you let her walk away with my human. Do you have  _ any _ idea what you've done!?" People flinched as her voice rose. Muffet never raised her voice. 

"An authority!? _Who_ pays your salaries!? _Who_ gave you a chance when you were at rock bottom? Who protects you from the _Purge_ and prison? It's not Undyne. It's not the _king._ It's _me_. This…" she gestured around her with a flick of her wrist, her lips curled back to display her fangs.

"This is  _ my _ kingdom. That human was  _ my human.  _ I have worked tirelessly to build my empire. I started from nothing… who are you?" She spat, pointing to one of the men across from her. He shrank back and she shot another glare at Alexander. 

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" No one said a word. No one dared. They knew Muffet was right and they were painfully loyal to her. She scoffed and shook her head as she leaned back on her hips. 

As the shameful silence stretched between each person in the room, she let out a small breath and smoothed her hair back. 

"That is all…" she glanced to the back where Dante sat in the shadows. Alexander tried not to look behind him. He knew what she would be planning and it was his time to act before Muffet could get away with it. He couldn't allow Frisk to suffer anymore of Muffet's ruthlessly power hungry reign on her life. 

As her associates filed out, hanging their heads with a mixture of shame and irritation, he shoved past and made his way to the lobby. In an instant he had formulated a plan. 

Frisk needed him, and he found he was strangely devoted to her. 

As he sprinted into a ferry, he was struck with the thought that Frisk had wanted to be taken to Waterfall. Looks like her wish had been fulfilled in a strangely awful scenario. The thought was almost enough to pull a wry laughter from him.  _ Almost,  _ but Alexander rarely laughed. He had learned a long time ago to keep his emotions to himself. 

When he arrived in Ghost Town he was seized with an icy apprehension. What if Frisk had been murdered? 

"No…  _ no.  _ She's still alive…  _ she has to be."  _ He prayed to whatever dead god was listening that General Leviathan had been enchanted by her just as he had been and had spared her life… He would fight tooth and nail to get her back. To keep her safe from Muffet and the king. Frisk was not a means to an end. She was not an object to be used. 

He found his heart rate had spiked and adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he reached the home of the General. A blue creole townhouse on the fringe of the city. A rod iron gate surrounded it, but Alexander had no problem jumping it and landing in her front yard. 

He puffed out a humid breath and moved towards her door, his hand clenching into a fist the closer he got. He stood there… his nose practically pressed against the door as he considered his options.  _ Save Frisk.  _ With that final thought, he raised his fist and gave two sharp knocks. He wasn't a barbarian. 

There was a long moment when he believed Undyne was struggling on the concept of opening the door. He knew she was inside. He'd force himself inside if she didn't open up. At this point he could care less about his own life. What was his life anyway? He had sold his soul to Muffet, he didn't have a life, or a purpose until Frisk showed him a different path. Be her sentinel. Guard her mind. Guard  _ her.  _

As he was about to pound the door into dust beneath his hooves, it cracked open, stopped by a door lock that strained at the wood. Her single, yellow eye met his. 

"What do you want?" She snarled. He narrowed his eyes. 

"What have you done with her?" He asked quietly, trying not to let his anger breach his voice. She froze and he wondered if she would slam the door in his face; it would only give him more reason to kick it down. 

"I don't know what you're talking—"

"—I'm not one of Mettaton's…  _ or  _ Muffet's cronies. Frisk. What have you done with her?  _ My friend?"  _ Her eye widened at his words. 

"She's… Frisk…? So that's her name…" His nostrils flared and he stamped his hoof. 

"Enough. Is she still alive—"

"—Why do yo—"

"—Tell me! The longer we sit out here arguing, the more time Muffet has to attack!" He bellowed. Undyne growled at him and hushed him sharply. 

"Leave me alone. I don't need your help—" she was cut off by the sound of vomiting and choking. Her ears drooped and she looked over her shoulder. Alexander straightened at the noise. 

"Please, I failed to protect her once. I can't fail her again," he pleaded. Undyne frowned and eyed him warily. She let out a sigh of defeat and closed the door. Alexander listened as the lock unlatched and he snorted his relief when the door creaked open. As he walked in, the singing of a spear alerted him to the weapon at his throat. 

"One wrong move and I will not hesitate to end you," she spat. Alexander gulped and his fear came rushing back. He was, after all, in the home of the  _ General.  _

"I'm not here to harm anyone. I'm just here to help her," he said. Undyne clenched her teeth and closed the door behind her. 

"Who are you anyway?" She asked as she shoved him toward the bathroom. He promptly told her his name and background as an ex soldier. Undyne opened the bathroom door and Alex's eyes were drawn to the tub.

A pang of agony shot through his heart. It had been the actual first time he had seen her in this state. It was… shocking. She looked  _ dead _ . Or at least, she would've if it weren't for the slow rising and falling of her chest. 

"Oh…  _ Frisk… _ " he knelt down beside her and grabbed her hand. Undyne clenched her teeth and watched with a wary and curious eye. 

"What has she… been like?" He asked. Undyne shrugged, a look of worry crossing her face. 

"I… it's kind of hard to explain. I really… don't know why I took her in. I just… felt like I had to. Like my center of gravity changed the moment I laid eyes on her," Undyne explained. She didn't know why she had told him that. He was a stranger who had barged in demanding to take care of the human she was not even supposed to have. 

"I know what you mean. She reels you in… I don't think it's a bad thing. She actually believed in me. I'm sure she would tell you that you were a hero if she was awake," he said softly as he caressed her forehead. 

Undyne froze as his words struck a chord in her soul. A hero… 

"I… I don't know what's wrong with her. Have you tried waking her up?" Undyne nodded. She had tried everything she could think of that wouldn't catastrophically damage her. 

Alexander studied the woman below him. Her brows were furrowed as if concentrating on something. Her eyes shifted underneath her lids. She was very much conscious, but in a very different reality. 

_ "Well, think of my mind as a labyrinth… I need you to guard it for me." _

He realized what he had to do. It wasn't chance that he had befriended her. Her mind was a labyrinth. She had so herself. She was trapped inside. 

⁂

  
  


_ Every hallway felt the same. No… every corridor _ was  _ the same. The same crimson carpets, the same mirrors, the same tables, the same faded, peeling  _ wallpaper!

_ If Frisk was lucky enough to find a door, it always led to a new hall. The mirrors didn’t break… she had tried that, but it was as if she had been sealed inside the moment she had landed.  _

_ Frisk broke down sobbing as she stumbled into yet another long hallway that led to nowhere but more long hallways.  _

_ "Chara!" She called. Frisk's reflection rippled into the face of her only companion in that red hell hole. Chara's eyes flickered with concern when she saw Frisk's distress.  _

_ "You have to help me out of here!" Cried Frisk. Chara frowned.  _

_ "You know I can't do that—" _

_ "—You brought me here!" Frisk raked a hand through her hair as she desperately looked about for an escape. Chara shook her head mournfully.  _

_ "I was desperate!" They fell into silence and Frisk paced about. The walls shuddered and a wind began to blow. They both looked up toward the whistling gale. Chara's eyes widened and she looked back at Frisk.  _

_ "Uh… I think someone just entered your labyrinth…" Frisk paled and took a step back as the wind blew against her.  _

_ She stumbled against a desk as the gust grew harder and stronger. Her hair and the effervescent gown hanging on her body flapped and fluttered furiously in the wind. She squinted her eyes as the candles flickered and then disappeared.  _

_ The two girls were quiet and the silence stretched for what felt like hours as the darkness pressed around Frisk. Then… she saw a red light. It wasn't like her soul. It was a thin, crimson thread that stretched through the dark and reached for her. She trembled with excitement as a realization dawned on her. She remembered what Alexander had said when he explained his magic to her… it was him.  _

_ She grabbed the thread and looked at the mirror. Chara's eyes twinkled with understanding and Frisk stepped forward to follow the red thread of light.  _

_ "You know what this means, Chara? I'm not with Muffet anymore. He saved me…" Frisk breathed, her eyes wide with awe and a warm smile spreading across her face.  _

_ "Let's get out of here then." Frisk nodded and the two started forth, the red line twisting and turning through those endless red hallways. Darker and darker… deeper and deeper.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ooo I love it when Muffet goes off. Serious Carmilla Vibes. SERIOUS Miranda Priestly vibes! 
> 
> Up Next: Frisk truly confronts her past.


	55. Labyrinth

Chapter Fifty-Five: Labyrinth

* * *

_ She had walked through what felt like miles of long, empty corridors until the thread disappeared under the crack of a door.  _

_ "That's weird…" she murmured as she came to it. It was strangely familiar. Chipped yellow paint, a brick trim. There was a faint sign on the door. Was this a public restroom? Why did it feel like she had been there before?  _

_ "Well… this is where the string leads…" She went to push it open and found herself in a tight convenient store bathroom. She had been there before.  _

_ The door swung closed behind her and she began to notice just how real everything was. She remembered this place. Her throat swelled and her eyes welled as memories flooded her head.  _

_ "Why—"  _

_ "—Hi mommy…" Frisk froze as the soft voice of a little girl filled her ears.  _ No…  _ She turned her head to see a small girl sitting on the toilet as if it were just any other chair. Her chubby legs were too short and couldn't reach the floor, so they swung back and forth.  _

_ Frisk took her in.  _ Mommy?  _ She thought as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The little girl was beautiful. With ringlets of golden hair like her father, Louis, would've had… big brown eyes and a soft face… Frisk felt both rage at herself and a deep sadness overtake her.  _

_ She wanted to run back into the confines of those red hallways, but her feet wouldn't budge.  _

_ "I'm sorry I made you sad, mommy," she whispered. Frisk's lip curled as tears flooded over her lashes and spilled down her cheeks.  _

_ "I know you're still angry and hurt about a lot of things… I know I hurted you when I left. It's not your fault mommy, it's not your fault," she sniffled. Frisk stumbled back against the wall and let out a choked cry.  _

_ "What is happening?" She choked. The little girl got off the toilet and hesitantly approached her.  _

_ "I know you feel like you're all alone. I know daddy left you and you felt…" Frisk shook and looked up into the eyes that so closely resembled hers. In those eyes she saw her younger self, sobbing. _

_ It all came flooding back to her. Her teen pregnancy. The shame and humiliation she had felt, but the intense love that filled her the longer she spent with the baby growing within her. She hadn't aborted it, whether out of some personal moral standing or just self punishment … and then she was left to her own devices.  _

_ She had worked her ass off to be able to afford a small, hole in the wall apartment. To pay for a sonogram. She had gone down dark paths, but every night when she felt the small kicks against her stomach, she cried as love filled her. True love.  _

_ And then one of the customers at Claude's club, in a drunk fury, punched her in the stomach. She remembered it all so clearly now. It was amazing just what the mind would forget.  _

_ Choking and weeping, she couldn't breath as the girl stood over her tears spilling out of her own eyes.  _

_ "Claire… your name was supposed to be Claire," she croaked as tears streamed down her face and neck.  _

_ The little girl nodded slowly and sat down across from her. _

_ Frisk had never gotten over it. Fear had always filled her. Claude's club had made her body toxic.  _ Damaged  _ her soul. If she had just not been so foolish! If she had been responsible. If she hadn't tried to chase after that revolting boy, none of this would have happened. She could've been happy.  _

_ "Please mommy… please stop blaming yourself. Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?" Frisk sobbed and her hands shook as she pulled her legs in close. What was going on? Why was this happening to her?  _

_ Frisk stiffened as the small girl's arms wrapped gently around her and they rocked back and forth.  _

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star…"  _ Frisk's silent, screaming cries whined out of her throat as she tightly embraced the girl. Her  _ daughter. 

"Je voulais être une bonne mère. Une meilleure mère que la mienne. Je n'ai même pas eu l'occasion,"  _ she whimpered. _

"How I wonder what you are…"  _ Frisk's body shook as she lost her breath. Her own sobs were choking her.  _

"Je n'ai plus jamais voulu aimer une autre personne."  _ She had been so afraid of being abandoned. She had been so filled with anger and sadness that she had pushed any chance of goodness away from her. When she got a new chance with Damian… her body still never forgot. She had still never forgiven.  _

"Up above the world so high…

Like a diamond in the sky… 

Twinkle, twinkle little star…

How I wonder what you are…"  _ Frisk's breathing grew heavy as she tried to regain control of her senses. She had been so ashamed of herself…  _

_ "You made bad choices, but you're still good. You're like a nightlight in a dark world. Please mommy. I forgave you… it's your turn…" she whispered. Frisk ran her hand through her daughter's hair and she squeezed her eyes shut.  _

_ "I made mistakes… but… I suppose it all led to this moment. I never want to feel that shame again. It shut me down," she whispered into her hair. The little girl nodded slowly.  _

_ "Mommy, you can start living! Starting now," she whispered. Frisk rose her face to the ceiling and clenched her jaw. Yes… she could. Her life had been filled with mistakes. Mistakes that she had let define her for so long. Bad choices that had culminated a fear and shame deep in her soul that caused her to doubt everything she did and everything she was. She was more than her past. There was only one way to move forward.  _

_ "I want to make the right choices… I want to let myself move on… I want to forgive. I haven't truly forgiven anything that's ever happened in my life. I've never let myself move on… I want to," she whispered. They sat in a long silence for what felt like hours before Frisk finally embraced her daughter even tighter than before.  _

_ "Only you can forgive yourself." Frisk nodded and hummed gently as she rocked the little girl. It was her turn to sing a lullaby.  _

_ "You are my sunshine _

_ My only sunshine  _

_ You make me happy  _

_ When I am sad _

_ You'll never know dear  _

_ How much I love you,  _

_ Please don't take my sunshine away…"  _

_ A soft light leaked through her closed eyes. She slowly opened her eyes to see the girl fade away with a soft glow of red before all that was left in her arms was more red string.  _

_ Frisk's breaths shook as she tried to pull herself together on that bathroom floor. Slowly, Frisk pushed herself to her feet and roughly wiped her eyes. She came to stand at the mirror, staring at her reflection as she mulled over what had just occurred. Never in a million years had she ever thought this could happen to her… but then again… there were a lot of things she had been convinced she'd never have to experience.  _

_ "Only I can forgive myself… I don't know if I can…" she whispered. The red thread led back out the crack of the door and the bathroom began to slowly disintegrate. She whimpered and looked back at the mirror. It began to crack before her eyes and she backed away.  _

_ "I guess it's time for me to go…" she murmured. She reached for the door and tried to push it open. It wouldn't budge.  _ What!?  _ She thought frantically. She shoved it…threw her shoulder into it… banged and kicked it— trying anything to get it to open! Why was it still solid  _ while  _ it was disintegrating!?  _

_ "I don't understand! Let me out!" She screamed as the floor began to pull away and crack.  _ Shit!  _ She didn't know what she was supposed to do!  _

"Only you can forgive yourself." 

_ How!? She didn't know if it was that easy.  _

_ "But I was so stupid! I gave up my whole life! I  _ lost _ her! I don't deserve… I can't. Please just let me out!" The mirror shattered and fell into the black abyss below. A void… she was going to fall into it!  _

"You can start living! Starting now." 

_ Her breaths grew frantic and she tried the door again. Nothing. She'd have to do this now. She wasn't strong enough, she… being in this room…It was like being there all over again.  _

"I forgave you… it's your turn now." 

_ Frisk whimpered as the void loomed below her, threatening to swallow her up. It really had felt like that when she had lost her. Lyon had become one huge void…  _

_ "I…" She wanted to. She wanted to move on. She wanted to stop being tormented by her grief, by her past, her shame. She thought she  _ had  _ moved on, but she clearly hadn't. But… her daughter… she had forgiven her. If she could do it, so could Frisk.  _

_ "Ok.  _ Ok.  _ I forgive you Frisk De La Noir…" The door cracked and she looked up. As the floor gave out, she gave one final shove. It collapsed under her palm and she slipped. Her fingers tightened around the red string that coiled into a chord.  _

_ "I forgive myself!" She cried as she clambered up the rope with all the strength she had left. Frisk squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as she leaped out from the abyss of self loathing that she carried within herself all those years.  _

_ When she opened her eyes… she stood back in the hallway. It wasn't so dark anymore… and the weight in her stomach that had always seemed to have been there…  _ lifted. 

_ A few of the mirrors had been replaced with paintings. A ballet dancer. A soft… sad smile graced her lips. It was time to move on.  _

__

__ ⁂

  
  


"How's it going?" Murmured Undyne as she slipped back into the bathroom with a mug of tea. She glanced at Alexander and then down at the girl…  _ Frisk _ . They both looked extremely focused and she clenched her jaw. She supposed interrupting a Minotaur would have dire consequences. 

Despite his radio silence, the company was alarmingly nice and she found she quite delighted in it, despite her initial apprehension. 

She sipped her cup of tea and dipped her hand in the bathwater. Ice cold. She grimaced and pulled the plug out. While the water drained, she seethed through her teeth when it gurgled noisily. The two didn't seem disturbed however, so she continued with refilling the bathtub with nice, warm water. 

Hopefully the poor human would wake up soon. That would make her job a lot easier. 

Undyne glanced back to Alexander and sighed boredly. She wasn't let in on whatever was going on between them, pushed to the side and forced to play spectator.  _ I suppose I should make myself useful then,  _ she thought as she slowly stood up.  _ Cook some dinner so when they come out, they can have some food. I bet they'll be starving.  _

Was it weird to say she liked this? She liked the duty of taking care of someone? Was that a good thing? Was that self-destructive? She didn't know… but she did know that it brought her peace. It soothed the storm in her soul put there by this awful hell. 

⁂

_ "Are you ok?" Asked Chara as Frisk trekked through the halls that were slowly becoming more and more deteriorated with age. Chipped paint, dusty mirrors. Unlit candles. At least now she knew she was going somewhere.  _

_ "It's complicated. I think this… this is more than just finding my way through some hallways. I've been given a lot to think about," she murmured. Chara considered her with a look of solemn understanding.  _

_ "What do you think will be next?" She asked. Frisk shrugged.  _

_ "I honestly have no clue. I don't know what I was expecting when I started this. I thought I knew where my pain came from… I thought I knew who the villains in my life were but I'm… I don't know anymore." The red thread made a sharp turn into a dark corridor and Frisk glanced warily at Chara.  _

_ As Frisk turned into the hallway, she was hit by cold air and the smell of garbage. A horn sounded in the distance and when she blinked, she realized she wasn't in a hallway… she was in an alleyway.  _

_ As she looked behind her, she saw nothing but the alleyway extending into a never ending abyss of nothing but dumpsters, fire escapes and street lights.  _

_ A door flung open and she started as a woman's sobs rang into the night. The sudden urge to run overcame her and she stumbled back.  _

"S'il vous plaît monsieur Dubois, ne les laissez pas me faire ça. C'est trop!"  _ A young woman.  _

"C'est de la folie Claude! Elle ne veut pas le faire. Je ne te laisserai pas."  _ The words seemed to tumble out of her own mouth.  _

"Tu feras ce que je dis!"  _ There was a woman's scream and Frisk staggered away.  _

__ "Non! Plus maintenant. Nous ne sommes pas vos biens! Vous ne nous possédez pas!"  _ She screamed. The gun shot rang. Frisk hadn't been prepared for the bullet. The woman had jumped in front of her and was struck in the stomach. She remembered it all now. Her soul had lit up in a blaze of fury for the first time as she lunged for Claude. He hadn't been ready for her. He hadn't expected the rage. A security guard had dragged her away, but she had turned on him.  _

_ Frisk stumbled back once more and this time, she gave into the urge to sprint down the alley. Just as she had that night.  _

__ "Ne me quitte pas!"  _ Don't leave me. Frisk gasped as the woman called out for her.  _

"Tu m'as laissé!"  _ You left me.  _ No, no, wait—  _ Frisk tripped when she saw the woman standing in her path. She collapsed onto the ground and groaned. The urge to run still pounded against her like a relentless wave.  _

_ "I thought you were going to help me… I tried to keep up with you… you left me in there. You were the only person who stood up for me and then…you were gone." Frisk clenched her jaw as one more failure stared her in the face.  _

_ When she had escaped from Claude's club in Lyon, she had gone alone. Guilt had always eaten away at her at the knowledge the women she had left behind would still suffer. She had abandoned them all.  _

_ "I had to get out," she croaked. The woman… a young girl. Beautiful golden-brown skin, and a bright smile. She had been the new girl at the club. Frisk had wanted to befriend and help her. She had never gotten the chance.  _

"Tu ne pourrez pas me sauver maintenant… mais tu ne pouvez plus tu enfuir. Tu avez quelque chose que très peu d'entre nous ont."  _ Frisk nodded slowly. She knew she had the chance to make good choices.  _ The right choices.  _ She couldn't keep running away. She knew when Muffet had revealed her true colors… when she had faced Asgore… when the brothers had betrayed her… she had run. Hard and fast. She had abandoned everyone who needed her.  _

_ She looked up and tried to hold back the tears in her eyes.  _

_ "I didn't have a choice though," she tried to reason. The woman sighed and looked to the sky.  _

_ "You always have a choice. You can't run away. Not when you have power. " Frisk hung her head.  _

_ "I… am determined… you're right. I'm so sorry," she whimpered. The woman smiled sadly and took her hand in hers, kneeling down to her level.  _

"Tu savais ce que c'est que d'être impuissant. Tu savais ce que c'est que d'avoir de la force. Tu êtes assez fort pour aider ceux qui ne peuvent pas s'aider eux-mêmes."  _ Frisk clenched her jaw with a steely resolve and the lights around then began to glow with red light.  _

_ "I will never again turn my back on those who need me. Never again." She growled. A warmth flashed over her as the woman hummed with satisfaction. Frisk glanced up and watched as she faded into red light, much like her daughter had.  _

_ Red string was laced in her fingers and she watched as it slithered into the door of Claude's club. Starting now she'd have to face her demons head on.  _

_ Frisk set her jaw and marched out of the alley as the lights flickered and burned with bright red light. As she threw the door open with a battle cry and charged into the club, she found herself back in the corridors.  _

_ "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this…" she murmured.  _

⁂

  
  


This was the first time Undyne had skipped work. It made no sense to Papyrus at all. Why would she skip work? 

He had to abandon his post at Snowden and leave his job in his brother's hands. He trusted Sans more than Dakota. 

Waterfall was an awful place. Most of the rounds he made in the shrubbery, were spent being swarmed by bugs. Calibri snorted as flies bit his hide. He just didn't understand why Undyne had called in sick  _ now _ , of all times. 

He pulled the reigns as a sound caught his attention. A rustling in the tall grass. He snapped out of his own thoughts and held up his hands as his eye flared. A glow of blue filled the night and the monster he had caught gasped as he was dragged into the open. 

"Nick!?" Grunted Papyrus with shock.

"Fuckin'... You reapers and your soul snatching… I thought you were stationed in Snowden," he said. It was an odd sight. The Lieutenant Papyrus on his steed holding a raggedy, blue rabbit up by his soul, and yet talking casually. It didn't fit the reputation. 

"Undyne told me to come in for her," he grumbled as he dropped his brother's best friend. Nick shot Papyrus a look of concern mixed with shock. 

"Oh? That's weird. I don't remember her ever missin' a day… this is huge," murmured Nick as his eyes lit up. Papyrus growled as he sensed the intentions in Nick's excitement. 

"Now hold on Nicholas, I'm still here… Just because I got you out of prison doesn't mean I'm affiliated with your…  _ organization,"  _ he growled. Nick snickered and brushed off his pants. 

"No… but you're definitely an accomplice," he said with a wink. Papyrus stammered at the accusation. He watched in dumbfounded shock as Nick picked an echo flower and whispered something into it. He flicked it and it whispered back to him. 

"Ok come on, let's go. I'll only have an hour before the message dies. Who knows, maybe you can check in on Undyne if you're really that worried," he said with a cheeky grin. Papyrus rolled his eyes to the heavens. 

"I am  _ not  _ worried," he grumbled. Nick shrugged and held his hand up. Papyrus rose a brow. 

"What?" He snapped. Nick groaned and waved his hand. 

"Let me on. We need to go to Ghost Town," he said as he took Papyrus's hand and pulled himself onto the black unicorn. Calibri snorted with displeasure. 

"We!? I'm doing my rounds!" He exclaimed in utter dismay at Nick's casual attitude. 

"That can wait. We have more important things to do." He hated the fact Nick had known him since he was practically in diapers. There had been a reason he had cut off old friends; respect. Unfortunately for him, however, Nick wasn't going to be shrugged off so easily and honestly… Papyrus was through with pushing people away. 

With a begrudging sigh, he allowed Nick to stay on the back of his steed and made his way to Ghost Town. He didn't even want to ask why Nick needed to go to the epicenter of Waterfall. He didn't want to ask what opportunities they could have with Undyne absent. Was he part of their conspiracy? Paranoia filled him the closer they got. 

Once they finally did reach Ghost Town, Nick effortlessly jumped off of Calibri's back and grinned up at him. 

"Thanks for the ride Lieutenant!" Papyrus rolled his eyes and glanced over as some monsters shot them curious looks. 

"Why don't you shut your mouth?" He grumbled. Nick chuckled and looked down at the flower. 

"By the way… a friend of mine mentioned your uh… Moxie. She said she wasn't with you guys anymore, when did that happen?" Papyrus's eyes darkened and he looked away as shame flickered across his face. 

"About a month and a half ago… she's with Muffet," murmured Papyrus. Nick's eyes widened with shock. 

"Oh God…" he murmured. Papyrus grunted in agreement. 

"We have a plan. Sans is working on it with Doug at the moment," he said. Nick sucked in through his teeth and looked around as they walked through the street. 

"Last time Sans and I got tangled up with Muffet—"

"—I know. But that's when you were teenagers. Easily manipulated and traumatized. Muffet knows not to underestimate us. She's done everything in her power to stay one step ahead of us but she'll fail. She will fail." 

Papyrus glanced down as Nick as his eyes searched the crowd. He was looking for one of his silly Angelican accomplices. He still couldn't believe Nick was a rebel. He should've had him arrested, but… it was  _ Nick.  _

"I hope you'll find her. If Muffet snatched her it must mean she's… worthy of being crushed. Unfortunately, we'll have to part ways now." Papyrus rolled his eyes and kicked Calibri into a trot as Nick shouldered his way into a store that Papyrus purposefully forgot to read the name of. He tried to ignore the words Nick spoke of Frisk. Worthy of being crushed? 

"... Speaking of Sans, I should probably call and check to see how he's doing," he murmured to Calibri as he ran his fingers through his thick, black mane. Calibri snorted and tossed his tail in wry humor. Papyrus chuckled and steered him near a payphone booth. 

He swung off the saddle and tied Calibri to a post, shooting the commoners distrustful looks. With that, Papyrus entered the phone booth and dialed Sans's border station. The phone rang five times before Sans finally picked up. 

"What!?" Snarled a voice on the other side. Papyrus rolled his eyes. 

"Sans that's not how you're supposed to answer the phone." Sans groaned and the two shared a wry laughter together before they both got serious. 

"Status update on the plan," ordered Papyrus. Sans cleared his throat and murmured something. Papyrus assumed he was talking to Doug. 

"It's um… so we got some more information out of Julian, like the password needed to get Muffet's secret products—"

"—She stopped selling Frisk!" Barked Doug from the background. Papyrus quirked a brow with confusion. Muffet wouldn't take a "product" off the market unless it was failing and at that point, as much as it disgusted Papyrus, Frisk's body was not losing customers. 

"Did you find out why?" He asked. 

"No. All Doug was told was that there was a temporary cancellation of all new and previous bookings and appointments for  _ Valentine's day."  _ Papyrus hummed in thought, his brows screwed with frustrated confoundment. 

Nothing made sense! Undyne wasn't working, Muffet had cancelled Frisk's appointments! The world was turning upside down. He just wished he could shake it and pray Frisk would fall out and back into his hands. 

"Keep asking around. Something's not right. I feel like the answer is right in my face... I'm just not looking hard enough—"

"—We'll ask the La'Pine sisters. They know a lot of gossip," said Doug. Sans grunted at the idea. 

"I'll leave you to it." They said their goodbyes and with that, Papyrus hung up the payphone. He sighed and leaned his head against the glass wall of the phone booth. Well… that definitely put a wrench in their plans. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


_ Frisk hummed under her breath as she trekked the halls. Paintings of ballerinas and newspaper articles lined the walls. She couldn't read them however. Not because they were in an unfamiliar language… but because they were quite literally in gibberish. Only the headlines made even a lick of sense. It was like trying to read a dream.  _

__

_ "I wonder what the next test will be," murmured Chara. Frisk nodded slowly.  _

_ "I have an idea…" she mumbled. Chara smiled at her like a proud teacher would of a student who was finally getting the hang of a concept.  _

_ "That's good. That means you're in tune with your mind and therefore it can be easier to control your determination." Frisk hummed at the idea and glanced at Chara. Wait. Were the paintings moving?  _

_ She glanced ahead to see a giant archway. The mirrors, paintings and newspapers grew tighter and closer together until she could no longer see any more of the walls. Probably for the best. The cracking, peeling wallpaper had started to really bother her.  _

_ Frisk passed underneath the archway and gasped as she was submerged in darkness. She braced herself for what might meet her in those black shadows. She had a feeling it would have something to do with Damian. However… the way things had been going… She hadn’t faced any of the people she had expected to face. She had been convinced she would face Claude , instead it had been the woman she had abandoned.  _

_ Would she face Damian? Or… would it be someone else? Tiana maybe?  _

_ Frisk was stopped in her tracks as her face hit a cold surface. She backed up and groaned as pain flared in her nose. She hadn't even seen… what was it?  _

_ "I could use some light…" murmured Frisk as she looked around. A red flicker disappeared between two walls that reflected it. She was in a room filled with standing mirrors…  _

"I prefer it dark." _ Frisk was startled to hear her own voice echoing through the room. She hadn't… that hadn't been her. Panic spiked in her heart and she glanced around. She was surrounded on all sides by mirrors that only dimly reflected the outline of her own body.  _

_ "Who… who's there?" She whispered as dread pooled in her stomach. There was a small giggle that seemed to bounce off the mirrors. Her vision spun and she held a hand over her eyes.  _

_ "Are you really going to sit there and act like you don't know?" It was her voice… Frisk glanced up. Where was it coming from? Another red light danced behind a wall, this time behind her. She stumbled back, and ground her teeth. Whatever this thing was, she was going to face it. She'd never run away again.  _

_ "I don't understand." The laughter returned. Red light flickering just beyond her peripheral vision. There was an icy chill in the air. Was it her own fear?  _

_ "No… you don't really understand anything. You don't know how any of this works… but  _ I  _ do…" Frisk narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists as she readied herself for a fight. As she caught the flicker of movement once more, she saw the shine of a wedding ring. The realization of who she was facing dawned on her and she grit her teeth.  _

_ "I know I have to face you in order to escape. So come out.  _ Come out and face me, Frisk Valeska." 

_ There was a long moment where Frisk swore nothing existed anymore. And then… a red light flared and she was punched across the face. A sharp, jagged pain cut through her cheek and she yelped as her back hit the mirror behind her.  _

_ The glass shattered around her and she held her hands up to cover her face from the shards falling over her shoulders. Frisk wasn't given any time to recover as the heel of a boot slammed into her side and sent her flying to the floor.  _

_ Her body rolled across the ground and she dragged her nails along the glass to come to a stop. The edges of the mirrors flared with red light, casting shadows and bathing her figure in crimson.  _

_ A dark form twisted out from the cover of a mirror, the reflection flickering in front of Frisk's eyes. Her hands darted up and blocked a heavy blow of a boot and she struck out with an open hand. Skin met skin with a hard slap. The shadow of herself grunted.  _

"Damian was right. Your kindness is your biggest weakness. It's just an excuse to remain placid and stagnant. What have you ever accomplished?" 

_ Frisk gasped as fingers tangled into her hair and dragged her toward the ground. She clasped the hands and tackled herself into another mirror. The two women hollered as they tumbled to the glass covered floor.  _

_ Mrs. Valeska was on her feet first, agile as a cat, eyes glinting with red light as she delicately plucked a shard of glass off the floor. Frisk rolled out of the way as her shadow pounced at her, swinging the makeshift knife.  _

"I'm stronger than you,  _ De La Noir.  _ I don't hold back!" 

_ Her shadow snarled and kicked her in the ribs. Frisk groaned, dodging as the whistle of her knife sliced through the air. Her hand snatched the wrist of Mrs. Valeska and she wrestled with the woman, climbing back up to her feet and jerking the two to and fro through the halls of mirrors.  _

_ Mrs. Valeska twisted her arms around Frisk's and swung her elbows down, breaking the hold she had on her. Frisk stumbled and chuffed as a knee flew into her face. Pain exploded in her eyes and her head flew back.  _

"You're pathetic. You let the brothers hurt you. You  _ let  _ Muffet use you. You think you can help a rebellion but you can't even help yourself!"  _ Another kick in the stomach and Frisk was thrown into a mirror. The glass exploded and she fell to the ground.  _

_ Frisk Valeska sauntered across the glass and it was then Frisk finally got a good look at… herself. She looked like the woman Damian had always wanted her to be. Expensive, powerful, cruel… just like him. She bared her teeth and staggered back to her feet.  _

"If it had been me… you would've never been in this situation. You would've been the Queen of Ebbot City. I would've killed Damian long before he could've hurt me. Take over his stupid operation—" a kick across the face "—Maybe even burn the Underground off the face of the planet." 

_ Frisk snarled and grabbed her Shadow's heeled boot as she swung it down upon her. She looped it over her shoulder and punched herself in the stomach three times. Valeska went down, wrapped her thigh around her head as Frisk punched with all the strength she could muster.  _

_ She choked as her face turned blue and she reached for a shard of glass. Rage filled her and she drove the glass into Mrs. Valeska's thigh. Her shadow yelped, loosening just enough for Frisk to pull away and yank the glass out of her leg.  _

_ "I'm not you! I will never be like you!" She screamed as she clasped her neck in her hands and slammed her head into the floor. Laughter bubbled out of her darker self and Frisk's eyes widened.  _

"I'm a part of you that will never die… kill me now or let me live… you know I'd win either way!"  _ Frisk shook her head and shoved herself away.  _ No running away.  _ She would have to face this part of her. What was the lesson? She thought about the words her darker self had said as she dodged the punches thrown.  _

_ The two weaved in-between mirrors, throwing or dodging kicks and punches. It was like an elaborate dance. Frisk began to realize there was a sick playfulness to it all. Mrs. Valeska laughed with cruel joy as she spun around the corner of a mirror and threw her boot against Frisk's arms.  _

"There's a part of you that revels in the fights. There's a part of you that loves the drama in jealousy and heartbreak. Denying me would be denying an extension of yourself. Don't lie to yourself… I really  _ hate _ liars, Frisk!" 

_ Frisk twisted around a thrust of a blade and slammed her arm into Valeska's. The glass went flying into the ceiling and Frisk rammed Valeska. Her shadow went flying back.  _

_ Frisk stumbled and rested against a mirror as Valeska slowly picked herself back up off the floor.  _

_ "For a long time Damian tried to gaslight me into believing kindness was a weakness. That mercy would do nothing but hold me back and make me a target. He was wrong… but being passive  _ is  _ weak. Not fighting back in the face of injustice does more harm than good. Violence has its place…  _ you  _ have your place in me… but you don't control me. And the things I could've been don't control who I am now," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Valeska narrowed her eyes at her and wiped the blood trickling down her lips. _

"No…  _ no!" She snarled, leaping up and swinging her fists. Frisk ducked and weaved the blows, before swiping her leg and kicking her off her feet. Valeska was about to go down, but Frisk grabbed the collar of her shirt.  _

_ The two seemed frozen in place, their heavy gasps for air the only sound in the hall of mirrors.  _

_ "You  _ are  _ a part of me. I'm no longer afraid to admit that. But you are not  _ me.  _ I own my destiny and I choose  _ Mercy."  _ Valeska's eyes widened. The red lights of the mirrors began to glow with blinding intensity and Valeska let out a blood curdling scream. The mirrors shattered as the scream pitched higher and Frisk cried out as a scalding heat ripped through her.  _

_ Silence. Darkness… Frisk slowly opened her eyes and looked down to see her hand clutching a red thread.  _

⁂

Undyne tossed the skillet, watching as the sesame chicken flipped in the air. She hummed as she poured more teriyaki sauce into the pan. The chicken sizzled beautifully and she smiled to herself. 

She glanced behind her to the hallway where the bathroom was. Human and Minotaur were still silent. She checked the clock and grunted. Six o'clock in the evening.  _ Maybe I should check on Alphys.  _ She thought as she set the stove top on low. 

She wiped her hands on her shorts and reached for her landline. Her fingers mashed Alphys's number and she waited as it rang. 

_ —Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system.  _ Doctor Alphys  _ is not available. At the tone—  _ Undyne slammed the phone back on the stand and growled to herself. She waited five seconds before yanking it back out and dialing her number again. Again, no answer.  _ She's avoiding me. God damnit.  _

The fourth time she had been sent to voicemail she sighed and waited to leave a message. 

"Hi babe… um, listen I'm sorry about our argument this morning, I just…I'm worried about you.  _ Very worried.  _ I want you to be ok… Call me back if you get this. Please… um… I love you… I'll talk to you later." She sighed and hung up again. 

— _ meow.  _ Undyne jumped at the sound of a cat's mew. She didn't own a cat! She glanced down at the dark form sitting on her kitchen tile. Silver eyes blinked up at her and she stood frozen in shock.  _ Is that a fucking  _ shade?  _ How did that get in my house!?  _ She thought. The shade looked around and, much like how a shadow moves between light, disappeared into the hallway. 

Undyne chased after it and threw the bathroom door open. The shade climbed into the tub and padded across the water before landing on Frisk's chest. It meowed and pawed at her skin before rubbing its head against her cheek. 

"What the fuck?" She whispered as the shade purred and kneaded against the woman. Did it know her? Obviously it had to… the thought brought a small, curious smile to her lips. 

"You're a weird one, Human," she whispered as she hovered near the door. She stood there for a quiet moment until a rancid smoke caught her nose and she gasped. 

"My chicken!" She exclaimed as she raced back to the kitchen to save her dinner. 

⁂

  
  


_ "It's so dark...Chara are you still there?" Asked Frisk.  _

_ "You can't see me but yes. I'm still here," said Chara. The only light was the thread in her hands. She was growing exhausted. Was that a good thing? She hadn't been exhausted before wandering those red corridors.  _

_ "Look! Up there!" Called Chara. Frisk gasped and jerked to attention. A lone light illuminating a quaint porch. The red thread disappeared underneath the front door.  _

_ Frisk raced up the stairs and onto the porch. The door was strikingly familiar. She checked it. Locked… Frisk's eyes trailed down to the welcome mat that she was sure wasn't there before. She knew exactly what to do. She knew where this door led and a fear gripped her.  _

_ Her father's home… her childhood house. It couldn't be… Tears pricked her lashes. No.  _

_ "You have to go in to move forward…" whispered Chara. Frisk shook as she stooped down to grasp the key out from under the mat. Out of all the challenges she had faced… this was the one trial she didn't know if she could stomach.  _

Only you can forgive yourself. 

You can't run away. 

Don't lie to yourself. 

_ Chara was right. She had to go in. Her hand trembled as she unlocked the door.  _

_ Just as she was about to open the door to her childhood home, her body seized and she rested her head against the wood as tears streamed down her eyes. Frisk's lips trembled and she forced herself to slip inside.  _

_ "What is this place?" Whispered Chara through the mirror on the fireplace mantle. Everything was exactly as she remembered it. The train set on the piano, the Persian rug, the old, saggy, leather sofa and the chest that she knew was filled with scrapbooks and knickknacks.  _

_ "My… my home…" she whispered. It was a quaint two story cottage. Pictures covered the walls. The faces were blurred out or redacted with black ink. She couldn't bear to look at them.  _

_ Would she face her father? There was a part of her that hoped beyond hope that she would… it had been six years after all. She missed him terribly but… what would he say to her?  _

_ Was she a disappointment? Did he hate her? Was he glad to have her out of his life? Was he ashamed? Did he denounce her as his daughter? She wouldn't blame him if he did.  _

_ No… no. I have forgiven myself. It's not about that… I made… I made mistakes… but… I can't control the past, only the future.  _ Père! Je suis à la maison!"  _ She called as she meandered through the old house. It smelled like dust.  _

_ There was a creak at the stairs and she whirled around, bracing herself for what she hoped was her final trial.  _

"Il n'est plus là, chérie…"  _ it was a woman's voice… Frisk froze at the unexpected turn of events. Slanted light revealed the woman as she made her way down the stairs.  _

_ Frisk choked at the sight. It was like looking in the mirror except… the woman before her had a sharper jaw… higher cheekbones and was lined with age. Her hair was silver, but cascaded down her shoulders. It was her mother.  _

_ She narrowed her eyes. Her mother… the woman who had abandoned her and her father. She gritted her teeth. Why did it hurt so much to see her?  _

__ "Que fais-tu ici?"  _ She spat. The woman frowned at the greeting and leaned against the stairs railing.  _

"Je ramasse les morceaux que tu as cassés."  _ Picking up the pieces she had broken?  _ What the fuck is that supposed to mean?  _ She thought bitterly as her mother approached her. She froze as her fingers brushed her face.  _

"Qu'est-ce que tu racontes? C'est toi qui nous a quittés."  _ Her mother quirked an unamused brow and frowned at her daughter. Frisk couldn't even remember the last time she had seen her. She had been so young… her mother's absence had scarred her deeper than anything.  _

"Tu aussi. Tu avais laissé le vieil homme tout seul ... Je suppose que vous avez vraiment pris après moi,"  _ she murmured. Frisk's eyes widened at the accusation and she slapped her fingers away. _

_ "I'm not like you!" She gasped. Her mother sighed and looked at one of the family photos.  _

_ "You have my eyes… my thirst for adventure," she said. Frisk tried to stifle the tears threatening to spill over.  _

_ "I don't abandon people. Not anymore. Not like you…" she whispered. Her mother hummed and shrugged her shoulders as she held up a baby photo.  _

_ "You look for me in every woman's smile. You bend over backwards to please anyone who fills the void I left behind. It's why you were so quick to trust that vile spider… but you know you'll never be enough. You knew that then, and you know that now," she purred. Frisk's shoulders hunched as her own trauma stared her in the face.  _

_ Was that true? Would she never be enough?  _

_ "Oh, cheri… do you want to know why I left?" Asked the woman. Frisk trembled and leaned against a table. Her eyes widened as she connected every dot… every lesson. It had all been different from what she was expecting.  _

_ "...No.  _ Je ne peux pas changer le passé ... mais je peux changer l'avenir.  _ I've learned so much on this journey… You're wrong," she said, her lips trembled as she arrived at an understanding. Her mother hummed her bemusement.  _

_ "I forgive myself for what I've done in the past. I made horrible choices and I blamed it all on people like you… but my soul was still good. I fought tooth and nail for what I believed was right… and I didn't need you or…  _ anyone's  _ approval. You're right though. I'm not enough…  _ I'm more than enough!"  _ She exclaimed as she pushed herself off the wall and stood proud. Tears streamed down her face and she roughly wiped them away.  _

_ She  _ was  _ more than enough.  _

_ Her mother smiled softly and looked out the window as light began to spill through.  _

_ "Maybe one day we'll meet again," she said as the sun graced her skin. Frisk swallowed the lump in her throat and reached for her.  _

_ "When that day comes… I'll try to forgive you too," she murmured. Her mother turned to her, tears running down her eyes and she brought her hand to Frisk's chin. Frisk closed her eyes and sighed as a warmth washed over her.  _

Only you can forgive yourself. 

_ I forgive you, Frisk De La Noir.  _

You have to stop running away. 

_ I will never turn my back on those who need me.  _

Don't lie to yourself. 

_ I own my destiny.  _

You'll never be enough. 

_ I'm more than enough _

_ … _

… 

Frisk slowly opened her eyes. She winced as light hit her retinas. She was surrounded by warmth. A purr filled her ears and a deep sigh told her she wasn't alone. Her fingers flexed. Water. Her stomach grumbled. Hunger. 

"She's awake." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of her own destruction, Frisk rises from the dead. 
> 
> Up Next: Undyne and Frisk both have questions that need answering.


	56. General Leviathan

Chapter Fifty-Six: General Leviathan

* * *

Frisk groaned as pain flooded her body. Silver eyes met hers and a ghost of a smile flickered across her face. 

"Arial?" She whispered groggily as she gently lifted herself to a sitting position. She seethed as her bruises blossomed with pain. The shade mewed and jumped off of her, padding into the hallway with a content flick of her shadowy tail. Was she back with the brothers? 

"Where… where am I?" How many times was she going to wake up in a stranger's home? Large hands wrapped around her and she stiffened. 

"You're awake! I did it!" Whispered a friendly voice. Her lips pulled into a grin and she looked up. Her eyes met the kind face of Alexander and she felt tears well in her eyes. 

"Alex…" she breathed. He helped her up from the bathtub and she embraced him. Her vision blurred as tears blinded her. She breathed a sigh of relief into his warm chest. She was safe. 

She opened her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her fingers were wrinkled and waterlogged. It was then that it occurred to her that she was naked and a furious blush rose to her face. 

"I—  _ Oh mon dieu…  _ Could you be a dear and hand me a towel please?" She murmured. Alexander chuckled and reached over for one of the towels hanging on the bathroom door. 

Frisk staggered to her feet, her knees buckling. Alexander caught her before she fell and she groaned. She felt like a newborn calf learning to walk for the first time. When she was sure she was steady, she plucked the towel from his hands and smiled gratefully at him. He was being so kind. 

As Frisk wrapped herself, she became aware of the smells and atmosphere. It smelled like sea-salt and smoke. Indoor plants decorated every unused corner. There was a wall of hanging moss behind the claw foot rub and a radiator at the window. It was completely dark outside if not for the soft twinkling of blue lights. 

"Undyne! She's awake," called Alexander. Frisk froze.  _ Undyne… Undyne!?  _ What was she doing in the General's home!? 

"What!? Shit! Hold on, I'm coming!" Frisk gasped and took Alexander's hand. 

"Undyne!? Isn't she the General?" She whispered, her voice cracking with fear. Alexander's eyes widened and he glanced at the door as Undyne threw it open. Frisk yelped and Alex shielded her. 

"Careful. She's disoriented and doesn't understand what's going on," growled Alexander. Undyne shot him a bemused look before leaning back on her hips. She peered over his shoulder and gave Frisk an awkward grin. 

"Welcome back from the dead… hungry?" She asked. At the mention of her hunger, her stomach growled and Frisk sighed. 

"Very… I—"

"—I'm sure you have a lot of questions. So do I…but uh, I'm not gonna hurt you if that's what you were thinking," murmured Undyne. Frisk narrowed her eyes and chuckled wryly. 

"I've heard that one before," she quipped, her voice cracking. It was as if she hadn't spoken in years and was finally learning to talk again. 

Undyne grinned to herself and shook her head. 

"I'm sure you have. Look I was gonna kill you. I figured I'd be doing both of us a favor but um… I just couldn't. I don't know what stopped me. So… now you're here," she said. Alexander snorted and looked down at Frisk. 

"I can vouch for her. She's the one who saved you from Muffet," he said matter-of-factly. Frisk furrowed her brow and shot a curious look at the General of the Underground.  _ I suppose I  _ am  _ still alive…  _

"Fine… I… I am pretty hungry." Undyne smiled brightly and offered her hand. Frisk hesitantly took it and let the two help her down the hall. The smell of grilled chicken filled her nose and her mouth watered. 

⁂

She really didn't realize how starving she was until she noticed the way she was devouring the dinner set before her. One would've thought she had just gotten out of prison and was given a giant feast. She had abandoned silverware the moment the plate was set in front of her. 

"Wow… you really were hungry," murmured Undyne. Frisk blushed as she licked the teriyaki sauce off her fingers, trying desperately to imbibe as much food as possible.

"It's really good," she breathed as she snatched the drink off the table and gulped it down. Undyne chuckled and sipped her water. 

"Alright… think you could answer some questions?" She asked. Alexander bared his teeth in defense of Frisk. She held up her hand and nodded. 

"Nothing too…  _ exposing  _ but yes. I can answer your questions," she said. Undyne eyed her as she calculated her next response. 

"How long have you been down here?" She asked. Frisk frowned and reached over for a second helping of salad. 

"What day is it?" She asked. Undyne glanced up as she recounted the days. 

"The thirteenth of May." Frisk's eyes widened in shock.  _ The thirteenth!?  _ She swallowed a lump growing in her throat and she nodded. 

"Well… then I've been down here for five months. Almost  _ half  _ a year… wow," she murmured. Undyne shot her a look of surprise. 

"How've you been… down here for so long? And right under my nose too! You should've been dead by now, a human's never lasted that long down here." Frisk rose her chin defiantly and crossed her arms. 

"Well maybe people down here aren't as cruel as you force them to be. Besides… I'm not weak." Undyne winced at the jab thrown her way. 

"It's my turn… What do you plan on doing with me now that I'm awake? I know you're the king's right hand man— er… Woman… Are you going to turn me over?" She asked as she sat back in her seat. Undyne frowned and hid her face in her hands. 

"I honestly haven't figured that out yet… but uh… for now I just want to help Alphys. Helping you is the best way I can do that," she said firmly. Frisk searched her memory. Alphys… She was the royal scientist. The drug addict who had built Mettaton. Frisk shuddered at the unpleasant memory of that man and she clenched her jaw. 

"Who was sheltering you?" Asked Undyne. Alexander glanced at her with amusement. Anyone who was in the loop knew about Moxie, and if anyone knew Frisk, they could connect the dots. 

Frisk's eyes darkened and stared down at her empty plate. 

"Sans… and Papyrus," she whispered hoarsely. Undyne gasped at the revelation. Of course! It all made sense. 

"Oh my God… so  _ you're  _ Moxie… I can't believe I didn't see it before. I must've really not been paying attention," she said, a sheepish smile rising to her lips. Frisk shot her a bemused look. 

"You're not going to hurt them are you?" She asked. She shouldn't have cared about what happened to those backstabbers but… she did. The last thing she remembered before becoming trapped in her own mind was Sans desperately trying to reach her in her high. Tears welled in her eyes and her throat swelled. Some part of her wanted so badly to be back in his strong embrace and forget everything that had happened to her. 

"...I—" 

"—I know you have a bad history with them. Turning them over to Asgore would be the last fuck you, I get it but…this Kill or be Killed bullshit needs to end," she ordered. Undyne fixed her in a challenging stare as she considered her words. 

"Elaborate?" She asked. Frisk smirked and leaned against the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was done playing people's games to survive. From now on, she was in control of her life. She was in control of her destiny, and anyone who dared try to stop her would just have to move. 

"No. My turn. Why haven't you tried to stop Asgore yet? Does it have something to do with Alphys? He's pitting the two of you against each other in order to protect each other isn't he?" She asked. Undyne jerked to attention and stammered. Alexander chuckled under his breath and took their plates to the sink. 

"How did you—" 

"—I know about the stories. That you got into a nasty brawl with the king and he ripped your eye out. You barely made it out with your life…and you keep mentioning Alphys and wanting to help her. I'm not stupid either. I can put two and two together..." she said with a yawn. She was growing exhausted… and all this talking was only making her more tired. Not only that, but she was still dressed in nothing but a towel! 

Undyne eyed her. Something inside of her was roaring at her to spill her guts out to this weird little human. She didn't understand the spell she seemed to have on her, and she wasn't all that opposed to it. 

"...Ok then. I'll be honest. I've got nothing to hide from you, right? The truth is, I used to believe in everything Asgore said. From hating humans to the necessity of population control in our tight, finite, spaces. I was only a low ranked captain then. The older I got… the more I saw just how evil it all was. I went down a pretty dark path and got a gambling addiction… and um, that's when I met her. She changed everything for me. It was like my center of gravity shifted..." 

⁂

_ Undyne sat at the bar as she counted the money she had won from the game of black jack. She should've probably gone home by then. She had more than enough. It's not like she needed it anyway.  _

_ She was hoping she could try for a higher rank soon. Maybe even buy out a few captains in her class. She wanted to be… more than just an average soldier. No one remembered a low level captain. She wanted people to know her name.  _

_ "Who's ready to rock!?" Shouted one of the kids on stage. Right. She had forgotten about the dumbass band playing tonight. She had wanted to avoid it. She hated live music… at least when said live music was just some talentless hacks begging for tip money. Guess everyone had their ways of getting by.  _

_ A small crowd cheered and Undyne glanced up to see who it was she was going to have to endure for the next hour she planned on staying there. A reaper on bass, a lapine lead singer, a gorgon violinist, and a crossdressing lion on the drums. Great. An edgy rock band. She wished she had brought ear plugs.  _

_ "Whoo! Go Sans!" Cheered a small voice beside her. Undyne glanced over to see a reptilian demoness sitting near her, a bright, supportive smile on her face.  _

_ "They any good?" Asked Undyne. The girl gasped and looked up at her with wide eyes. She was cute… in a scaley, nervous kind of way.  _

_ "Y-y-y—ahhh—" she stammered. Undyne snorted and shook her head.  _

_ "Nevermind." A bass riff filled the bar as the reaper nonchalantly plucked his strings. He acted like he was alone in the room, without a real care for appearances. It was pleasantly surprising to say the least.  _

_ "He's not bad," she murmured. The girl beside her grinned excitedly.  _

_ "He's great! I wor—work with his father. I mean— I'm apprenticed to his father!" She said, a large blush rising to her cheeks and she quickly looked away. Undyne smiled softly and glanced down at her stack of money.  _

_ "That so?" She asked. The girl nodded and took a shaking sip of her drink as sweat beaded at her brow. The band wasn't as bad as she dreaded they'd be. Undyne still hated the fact it was a human genre of music… but there wasn't really anything she could do about that. Besides, the music wasn't what had drawn her attention.  _

_ "I'm Undyne, by the way," she said, sticking her hand out in greeting to the reptilian monster. She smiled brightly and gave a nervous giggle.  _

_ "Th—that's a real… really pretty name! I'm Alph—Alphys!" She stammered. Undyne grinned and shook her hand.  _

_ "So do you… come here a lot? Like are you a regular?" Asked Undyne. The girl,  _ Alphys,  _ intrigued her. Something about her genuine smiles and nervous excitement melted the iron wall she had put up when she joined the Guard. It was… relaxing.  _

_ "Oh, not really. I was just trying to catch their show. I don't go out a lot. To—too many people," she said with a shaky giggle. Undyne laughed and nodded along.  _

_ "What's the band name?" She asked. Alphys grinned and looked over at her.  _

_ "The Sugar Skulls!" She exclaimed. Undyne snorted with laughter and pumped her fist.  _

_ "Sounds appropriate. Maybe I'll see you again at one of their next shows. Wouldn't that be interesting?" Alphys beamed at the idea, her yellow scales turning red with a bashful vengeance.  _

_ She tried to speak, but couldn't get her words out. Undyne grinned and slid out of her chair. She leaned on her hips and bowed her head to Alphys.  _

_ "See you around, Alphys," she said as she pointed a finger gun at her. Alphys blushed and waved wistfully back to her.  _

_ After that night, Undyne never missed a Sugar Skulls show. That is until she finally got a date.  _

⁂

"Alphys and I were going steady but… I had become General and then W.D died and she finished Mettaton… She got promoted to head scientist. She was the one thing keeping me sane. The job… It's like walking on thin ice. I was on a breaking point with Asgore… um… wow… wait, no, how did you— I've never told anyone that story." Undyne shook herself out of the daze and Frisk shot her a knowing look. 

"I tend to have that effect on people," she said with a shrug. She smiled sadly at Undyne. What a small world. Everyone's lives down here were intertwined in some form of another. Each life had been scarred by the king's ruthlessness. 

Frisk yawned and rubbed her eyes. She may have been in a coma but she was more exhausted than ever. She felt like she could sleep for ages. 

"Ms. De La Noir is tired. She'll need her rest," said Alexander as he leaned against the doorway. Undyne gazed across at Frisk before coughing awkwardly and nodding. 

"Of course. I have a spare room upstairs. You can sleep there. Holler if you need anything." Frisk glanced down at her towel. 

"Could I… maybe get a nightgown?" She asked. Undyne practically kicked herself when she remembered that yeah the human did in fact need clothes. She jumped up and jogged upstairs to her closet. 

Frisk waited patiently for Undyne to return and glanced at Alexander. He lowered his eyes, but Frisk caught the flickering smile. 

"Here you are," announced Undyne as she tossed a shirt to her. Frisk caught it in one hand and held it up. A large baseball jersey.  _ Angels.  _ How fitting. Frisk chuckled wryly and nodded. It would do for now. Undyne led her upstairs to her makeshift room and Frisk wished both her and Alexander a goodnight. 

_ —meow.  _ Frisk glanced down at Arial and smiled. As she changed into the Jersey, she ran her foot over the back of Arial's shadowy fur in an attempt to pet her. 

With that done, she flopped onto the creaky bed and sighed into the silk duvet. Arial climbed on next to her and curled up at her side. It felt good to have a familiar presence with her.  _ Familiar presence… Chara!  _

Would she still be able to talk to her? She focused on the silence in the night and called for her friend. She was met with silence for what felt like hours until a voice seemed to sound off beside her ears. Frisk jolted up to see a translucent red figure hovering over her. 

_ "I'm still with you,"  _ she said, although her voice sounded like she was trying to scream through nothing but radio static. Frisk winced at the blaring white noise in her ears. 

"Good grief…" she breathed. Chara glanced around. 

_ "It'll be easier to maintain a physical presence in the material world if I have something to haunt. Taking this form is… dangerous for me, and I don't exactly want to inhabit your mind again,"  _ She said matter-of-factly. Frisk scrunched her nose. She was too tired to think about this. Chara chuckled with understanding and looked around. Her eyes caught the shape of a jewelry box and she pointed it out. 

Frisk sighed and dragged herself out of bed. She glanced over her shoulder and clicked open the box. Old necklaces and bracelets were tangled with one another. Mostly pearls and seashells. 

_ "That one!"  _ Whispered Chara with bubbling excitement. Frisk nodded and untangled the heavy locket from the rest of the chains. It had a ruby-red heart dangling from a silver chain. She tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Frisk shrugged and held it up. 

Chara gestured for her to set it down, and Frisk obeyed. She watched as the living soul whispered an incantation and her light began to glow with a purple sheen. Then a cyan blue. Finally a flash of red and she was gone. 

Frisk took up the locket and held it up closer to her. It pulsed with red light and she smiled. Amazing… 

"You're gonna have to teach me some of your tricks…" the locket twinkled and she put the necklace on. As soon as the glowing jewel made contact with her skin, a static crackled in her mind and she heard Chara's voice loud and clear. Laughter. 

_ "Get some rest then,"  _ she ordered. Frisk smiled sleepily at the demand. She wasn't going to argue with that. 

Her eyes stung with exhaustion and Frisk nodded to herself. She would have plenty of time next morning to think this all through and form a new plan. All that mattered now was that she was finally out of Muffet's claws… 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The glimmers of leadership spark in Frisk's eyes and attitude. She'll be calling the shots from now on. 
> 
> Up Next: Cold Turkey Withdrawals and an unexpected (or perhaps very expected) visit.


	57. Fevers and Firebombs

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Fevers and Firebombs 

* * *

The cravings began to set in not too long after Frisk's liberation. Only two days and then aching fevers and shakes hit her like a baseball bat. Frisk was always thirsty or hungry, and the tracks on her arms were swollen like spider bites. They itched like crazy. 

Undyne couldn't stay home with her everyday, which left Frisk in the capable and devoted hands of Alexander. The withdrawals from Reclusion, however, were only getting worse. Especially the tracks. They were growing along her arm and spreading rashes. It was as if they were actually spider bites. 

"Alex, I need tobacco and antibodies," she requested that night. If the drug was called Reclusion, she'd treat it like a brown recluse bite. She'd dealt with plenty of spider bites in her lifetime and had a few home remedies tucked under her sleeve. One of those said remedies was tobacco. 

Alexander shot her a confused look and she groaned as a throbbing headache overcame her. Her muscles shook and she stumbled to the couch. Alexander draped a blanket around her and nodded. 

"Are you sure you want me to leave you alone? Someone could attack while I'm gone. I know Muffet is still after you—"

"—Alexander, if I don't get any medication for these tracks, they're gonna get worse! Look at them!" She growled, shoving her arms in his face. He snorted with displeasure at her outburst and she sighed. 

"I'll be fine, Alex… please." His eyes softened as he realized what he had to do and with a gentle sigh, he hoisted himself up to his feet. 

"As you wish. Please remain hidden until I get back. I'll try to be swift," he said. Frisk nodded and got up to go back to her room. A rush of heat overtook her and she leaned against the wall. The headache was growing worse. 

"...Maybe some painkillers too," she murmured as she dragged herself up the spiral staircase. She crumbled into the bed and curled into the duvet. When she heard the back door click closed, an anxious paranoia set in her mind and she glanced at her curtain draped window. What if someone comes while he's gone? Her breath hitched and she clenched her jaw. 

_"Your body and soul are working overtime to burn out this addiction… determination usually makes things easier when you set your mind on the right goals… but your soul's attention is divided. Why?"_ Chara's voice rang in her head, giving her migraine a sharp pang that she groaned at. 

"One, lower your voice, please. I have a migraine. Two… Muffet put a spell on my soul. It controls me. Makes me follow her every demand," she explained with a shaking breath. Never in her life had anyone had that kind of power over her. Muffet was worse than Damian and Claude combined. 

_"A bonding spell… and she drugged you so your soul couldn't fight back."_ Frisk nodded and nursed her forehead. 

_"That cunt. It's ok. You just need to focus your determination on one or the other,"_ she explained. Frisk nodded and leaned back against the headboard. 

"I… I don't know how to do that. My determination has only ever been unlocked when I was emotionally unstable or in serious danger. I've never had control of it." Chara hummed with displeasure at her statement. 

_"You'll have to meditate on it. Try to focus on the way you felt in those moments… It's like doing yoga. You're in a serious stretch that's burning your muscles. You focus all your energy into trying to loosen them and go deeper. You meditate on your breathing and eventually, if you're well practiced, your muscles will loosen. Viola! Except this time it's determination and emotions instead of muscles and breathing… but I say combine all of them. Once you find your determination, and you'll know it when you do, focus all of it onto a specific problem you want it to overcome,"_ explained Chara. Frisk nodded along. 

Yoga? She was pretty good at yoga. Maybe she could do some poses while meditating? Frisk climbed out of bed and sighed. It was so cold, but her body was burning hot. Her head ached and her eyes felt like they were bulging out of her skull. Her vision swam and she leaned against the bed frame. 

"I don't know if I can do this." A wave of cravings filled her and she reached to scratch the track marks. 

_"Don't scratch the rashes."_ Frisk pulled her hand away and groaned. 

"I made it out of my comatose labyrinth, I faced all my deepest fears and trauma… I can overcome a stupid withdrawal," she growled. She felt a familiar heat in her chest and she let out a deep breath as she focused all her attention on the burn of her soul. 

"Atta-girl." 

⁂

Alexander and Undyne arrived home at the same time. Undyne shot him a dismayed look. 

"You left her alone!?" She spat. Alexander snorted and held up a bag of prescription drugs and a pack of cigarettes. 

"I was running an errand. Over the counter drugs are not easy to get and there was no way I was showing my face at the black market. That's Muffet's lot. Frisk needed these things and you were too busy." Undyne bared her teeth at the biting words, but she didn't argue. 

As they entered, the first thing they noticed was a red light leaking out from upstairs. They shared a look and bounded up the spiral staircase. Undyne threw the door open, preparing herself for a fight until she saw Frisk… in a yoga pose as light flooded the room, emanating from her soul. In fact, her entire body was glowing red, as if she had been encased in a ruby. Shimmering, purple strings were wrapped around the light. It was like trying to watch a snake strangle water. 

"What the fuck?!" Gasped Undyne in fear. She had never seen a human in that state, and she was scared. Her entire life she had been convinced that the only good human was a dead human. One could never really know what they could do. Humans, unlike monsters, were unpredictable in their magic. Determination didn't follow the rules. 

Frisk jerked up as her name was called; the light imploded back into her soul and sent her flying back against the wall. The purple threads enclosed around her chest before disappearing. 

"Shit!" Growled Undyne as Alexander raced to her side. Frisk groaned and held a hand up to her heart. 

"Are you ok?" Asked Alexander. Frisk brushed him off and fell into her bed. She mumbled something along the lines of I'm-fine-maybe-knock-next-time. Undyne scoffed, wary confusion written all over her face. 

"What was that? What were you doing?" She asked. Frisk winced as her headache hit her like a brick and she shrugged weakly. Alexander shot a glare at Undyne and set out Frisk's medications. 

"I'll get you some water," he said. She nodded and the two women watched as he left them alone. Undyne crossed her arms and raised an expectant brow. Frisk knew she'd have to answer some questions and she inwardly groaned. 

"Meditating on my Determination… I'm uh… trying to speed up this recovery process," she explained. Undyne nodded slowly as her eyes scanned over the small woman..she caught the red glisten at her chest and clicked her tongue. 

"Is that my locket?" She asked. Frisk's eyes widened and she lifted the heavy heart locket off her chest. She flushed with embarrassment. She should've asked, she had just never gotten around to it.

"Oh… yes. It is… I can take it off, I just… You wouldn't believe me if I told you why—"

"—Keep it," murmured Undyne. Frisk froze and looked up at her with shock. The General shrugged and glanced at her jewelry box. 

"Are you sure?" She asked. Undyne nodded and scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. 

"So what's going on with your symptoms?" She asked. Frisk sighed and looked down at the multitude of spider bite tracks on her arms. Nothing good. However, that was not an answer Undyne would accept. Frisk had very quickly come to realize that when Undyne asked questions, she liked to be given definitive, detailed answers. Must've come with being the General of the military. 

Frisk filled her in on the spider bites, the growing rashes and her fevers and shakes. Undyne was familiar with that, having dealt with heroin withdrawals. The spider bites were something new entirely and deeply concerned her. 

Alexander arrived back in the room and handed her a glass of water to help her pills go down. Antibodies and painkillers. She sighed and laid her head back. 

"Where did you get those, Alex?" Asked Undyne. Alexander grunted and showed her the bag. A standard drugstore in Ghost Town. Undyne nodded to herself. 

"I'll need to get antibodies then, for Alphys." Frisk smiled softly. 

"You know… I think you're doing a great job trying to help Alphys. Thank you for including me in it and… saving my life. It probably wasn't an easy decision," said Frisk. Undyne shook her head and sighed. 

"It definitely puts me in an awkward position…But, you're welcome," she said. Alex snorted in amusement as he poured water on loose leaf tobacco. He pressed several of the tobacco creations against the track marks and taped them in place with Band-Aids. Frisk asked for chopped garlic and Undyne hesitantly went to retrieve it, along with some ice packs. 

"Thank you for everything you've done, Alexander. You really are a hero," she whispered. Alex's face softened and he smiled gently as he nursed her forehead with a hot towel. 

"I am your sentinel," he said firmly. Frisk smiled and leaned her head against his chest. Her thoughts turned to darker places as she listened to the thud of his heart. 

Sans… in her high he had come to her and pleaded with her. She recalled it with a hazy memory. The words still rang in her ears. That he knew what he wanted. To love her. Tears pricked her eyes and she hugged her knees close to her. She shouldn't have wanted him so badly. She missed him though. She missed him terribly. 

"I don't know what to do, Alex. I want him back but… I don't know if I can ever trust him again," she whispered as a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

"Are you talking about… Sans Gaster?" He asked. Frisk chuckled wryly and wiped her eyes. 

"Just tell me I'm an idiot." Alexander snorted with bemused laughter. 

"I don't think that's going to help you very much," he said. Frisk giggled and curled up against a pillow. 

"You're right… what have they been doing?" She asked, eyes wide with self-destructive curiosity. Alexander's ears lowered and he frowned. 

"Do you really want to know that?" She nodded firmly and he sighed. 

"Honestly? Scaring the shit out of Muffet. They've been working tirelessly to recover you. They took two of Muffet's goons off the street and then kidnapped my boss. Word spread fast and… some rumors about you being the Gasters' favorite pet. Standard Underground horse shit…" Frisk frowned at the rumor. It reminded her of her status in the underground. A human. An asset. Something to be bought and sold or killed and tortured. 

_"Frisk, I can't live without you… Frisk… You always used to ask me what I wanted… I know what I want… I want to be yours, Frisk. I want to be with you, I want to protect you, and… and— shit—I… I want to love you. I do love you. Frisk… I love you. I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise… and this time, I'm not gonna break it."_

"When he… was at the casino—"

"—He begged to see you. On his knees. In front of everyone. Just to talk to you." Frisk froze. Sans… begged? For her? She felt a lump swell in her throat and she choked. 

"What do you think?" She asked, her voice cracking as she tried to stifle her sobs. Alexander's eyes widened at her emotional state. 

"Maybe we should stop talking about this. It's stressing you out," he said. Frisk leaned back against her pillow and gave a silent cry as the full force of her fickle love flooded her. 

"Tell me what you think I should do," she whispered. Alexander narrowed his eyes and looked away. 

"I don't know. They betrayed you. Just thinking about that reaper makes you like this…I want you to be happy, it's what you deserve," he stated with a firm nod. Frisk couldn't help but feel a sinking disappointment. 

"I know why they did it." Alexander shot her an inquisitive look. She brushed her tears away and sniffed. 

"I'm the last soul needed to break the barrier. Sans told me they had a specific plan to overthrow the king. I just didn't suspect that it involved me. They didn't even go through with it. I'm sure they rationalized it as millions of monsters versus one human. Sometimes I ask myself if I'd do the same thing…" she whispered. Alexander gazed down at her, his ear twitched as he thought up a response. 

"Would you?" He asked. Frisk pursed her lip as her brow furrowed in thought. 

"I don't know." Alexander nodded slowly and rubbed her shoulder affectionately. She smiled weakly and sunk into her duvet. 

"I think I'll try to sleep off this fever. Thank you, again," she murmured as tears rolled down her face. He looked after her until Undyne returned with her supplies. They worked to make her comfortable before finally leaving her to rest. Undyne retreated back downstairs, and Alexander stood guard at the door. 

His eyes were trained out the window. He could've sworn he saw the flicker of black fire. 

⁂

Undyne sat in her living room with a glass of boxed wine as Alexander made his way downstairs. She glanced up at him and grunted a greeting. 

"How's the princess?" She murmured a bit bitterly. She still didn't know entirely how to feel about the whole thing. A human… the entire conundrum was ridiculous. She reminded herself that she was doing this all for Alphys. As soon as she knew the best way to treat Reclusion withdrawals she'd… Well she didn't know what came next. 

She knew she should kill her. She was the General! If Asgore found out she was sheltering a human… He might hurt Alphys just to teach her a lesson. Undyne couldn't let that happen. Then there were also the brothers. If they really cared a lot about the human, which she assumed they did given the sheer amount of time they dedicated to finding her instead of working… and they somehow connected her to Frisk's death? She'd be fish food. 

There was no way she was going to get into another brawl with Sans the Skeleton. And then there was the growing fact that she didn't want to hand another soul to Asgore. He already had six and that was more than enough to over power him. Seven would turn him into a god. Who knows what he'd do if he had that power. Undyne didn't want to give him anymore power over her. 

So it appeared she was at a loss. It was a lose-lose situation. Damned if she kept her, damned if she didn't. 

"Someone is watching your house." Undyne swallowed at the words and she looked up. 

"Oh?" She murmured. Alex clenched his jaw and sat across from her. 

"Muffet is going to make a move. I just don't know when. One thing I do know, however, is that she's trying to put us in a false sense of security," he said. Undyne frowned and glanced at her front door. For fuck's sake. 

"Well then, we'll just have to stay alert. Take shifts, right?" She suggested. Alexander shrugged and went to the window. He peeked through the curtain and gave a heavy sigh. 

"Yes… I'll stay up first," he said. Undyne sighed with relief and finished off her wine. 

"Perfect. Wake me up in two hours. I'm going to get some shut-eye," she said with a wink. Alexander nodded firmly and glanced back out the window. Nothing but the darkness of Waterfall and the soft glow of echo flowers. 

"I know you're out there, Dante…" he murmured under his breath. 

⁂

The house was still. It was one in the morning. Undyne could hardly keep her eyes open, but she forced herself to stay awake. She and Alexander had already switched shifts. She was exhausted. 

As she nodded off, she shook her head and rubbed her eyes to keep herself awake. 

"I need some coffee," she grumbled. As she got up, her nose caught a familiar scent. An awful petrol smell… like gasoline but thicker. 

It was one o'clock in the morning when the glass of her front window shattered. Undyne ducked as a brick flew through her living room. She cursed and summoned a spear into her hand. 

"You want a brawl!?" She snarled. There was a moment of silence. She tried to convince herself that it had just been some kids fucking around. She knew it wasn't. Muffet was striking tonight. 

Undyne moved against the door and peaked out the shattered window. A flicker of black light and then a giant roar and bright flames filled her vision. She yelped and jumped back as a gigantic plume of bright, orange fire blasted through the open window. The flames licked against her curtains and caught immediately. 

The smell grew worse and she suddenly realized what it was. Napalm. She gasped and darted away from the living room as it succumbed to the fire. 

"ALEX! Wake up! Get the human to safety!" she screamed as she opened her back window for escape. The staircase was in the living room! She heard glass shatter as her picture frames and TV cracked in the heat. Stomping resounded overhead; he had heard her. Good. 

As she tried to pull herself out the window, a boot kicked across her face and she went stumbling to the ground. A man swung into her kitchen, a heavy flame blower strapped to his back. She gasped and thrust her spear at the strange man. He weaved out of the way, incredibly agile for someone with such weighted equipment, and slapped her spear out of her hand. 

It went flying into her cabinet. She rolled back onto her feet and dealt a rapid succession of quick jabs and punches at him. The man made of black fire ducked and weaved around her punches. It was like trying to fight the rain! 

Undyne feigned to the right, before hitting him square in the stomach. He grunted and stumbled back. Undyne danced back and shook her fist off as she summoned a spear into her other hand. His fiery mouth parted and he held up his gloved hand. As she readied an attack, he dragged his glove off. 

She spun her spear and thrust forward, and for a second she thought she had stabbed him. He smirked and grabbed her arm with his open hand. 

Undyne screamed as his fiery fist seared into her flesh. Her legs thrashed out and kicked him in the knee until he let go of her arm. He staggered against the counter and grunted as she threw her spear at him. She whimpered as she looked at her burnt arm, flesh roiling and bubbling with the heat. 

Her eyes widened as she noticed he had unstrapped the flame thrower. He went to click it, only to growl when he realized it was jammed. Undyne grinned and tried to slam her spear into his knee. 

He jumped up out of the way and landed on her spear. She gasped as she stumbled forward. Before she could duck out of the way, he swung his flamethrower against her head. Undyne fell to the ground with a dull thud, her vision blacking out as the world burned around her. 

"Credit where credit is due…You _actually_ hit me," uttered the soft, hissing voice of Dante. He stepped over her unconscious body and walked into the ferocious fire. 

Frisk screamed as the door was thrust open. Alexander shielded her as the form pounced at them. He took the blow and charged into the figure of black fire with his horns. 

"Alex!" She screamed. 

"Go! I'll hold him off!" He bellowed as he wrestled with the assassin. 

"Oh you will, will you?" Hissed Dante as he backhanded Alexander, shortly following the slap with a kick into the stomach. 

Frisk's eyes widened. She couldn't just leave him there! That Hitman would surely kill him! Frisk didn't know if she could ever live with herself if she knew she had abandoned someone. She wouldn't! 

She reached for the jewelry box and threw it at Dante. It hit the back of his head and he jerked to attention. 

"You're who I want," he uttered, pulling a switchblade from his jacket. Alexander thrust his horns at him and he dodged out of the way by hair, his knife swiping across Alex's cheek. 

"Get out of here, Frisk!" Ordered Alex as he threw a punch that the Hitman easily dodged. She cried out with fear and anger and flung herself into the fight. 

"I'm not leaving you!" She growled as she ducked and weaved Dante's jabs. Alex moved to ram him against the wall, but Dante clasped his horns in his hands and jerked her head to and fro; sending Alex barreling into the armoire. 

Frisk went to help him up, and as she did, a hand shoved her out the window. Alexander's hand. She screamed as she plummeted to the ground. 

Her hand snagged a drain pipe and her body slammed against the wall before the pipe snapped off. She landed on her back with a thud on the hard ground below. She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. Get up. GET UP! She could barely breathe, the wind completely knocked out of her. 

The entire first floor was engulfed in flames and Frisk staggered away from the front windows. Smoke billowed into the air, and the very distinct smell of napalm caught in her nose.

"Alex… Alex!" She screamed as she stumbled to her feet. Where was Undyne? Frisk's eyes widened with terror as she realized Undyne was still downstairs! I can't just run! I can't leave them! 

_"What are you doing!?"_ Gasped Chara as Frisk sprinted around to the back. The kitchen window was still open. 

"I'm returning the favor!" She exclaimed as she pulled herself into the burning kitchen. Rancid smoke hit her face and her eyes watered from the heat and ash. She coughed on the depleting air and dropped to her stomach. 

The kitchen was an oven. Fire roared around her, billowing in plumes on the ceiling as its smoke filled every crevice it could find.

She reached for Undyne and heaved her toward the window. The ceiling in the living room collapsed into itself, fire blooming in the destruction. 

Frisk's skin burned as the blistering heat surrounded her. She was being cooked alive. The very notion made her scream as tears spilled down her face. 

"Come on! Get up!" She cried as she hoisted Undyne to her feet. Undyne groaned as Frisk heaved with all of her might. Finally, the General tumbled out through the window and Frisk stumbled after her. 

She choked and wretched as she tried to inhale the fresh night air. The fire roared behind them and flared up and out the window as it overtook the kitchen. 

Frisk took up Undyne's arms and hoisted them to their feet. Undyne coughed and brought her hand up to her forehead. She glanced over and furrowed her brow with confusion.

"Frisk?" She whispered as the girl dragged Undyne away from the house and into the shrubbery. Frisk hushed her as she searched for a good place to hide Undyne. There was a lake nearby. That could be their escape route! 

"I have to go back for Alex!" She cried as she sprinted back to the house. Thorns and rocks dug into and cut her bare feet as she raced through the backwood. 

She froze as a shadow darted out of the cover of the trees and pressed a knife against her neck, the cold metal stinging her skin. 

"I'm afraid you won't be going back for anyone, _dearie_. Now be still." Frisk's body froze as the purple thread tied to her soul shimmered at the command. Her eyes widened and her body trembled as she found herself stuck once again in the arms of Ms. Muffet. 

"No… No," she whimpered as just beyond the tree line, Undyne's house erupted into flames. Muffet giggled into her ear and forced her into a frogmarch in the opposite direction. 

A shrill, horse's neigh pierced the air. Wait! I know that sound! It's Calibri! That small glimmer of hope ignited in her and her soul flared red against the strain of Muffet's spell. 

"PAPYRUS!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Muffet cupped her mouth, her six eyes wide with panic as Calibri's hooves thundered through the night. 

"Frisk!?" It was Papyrus! Her heart soured as her soul burned through her chest, a bright beacon of hope and determination. A true knight in shining armor! 

Papyrus crashed through the trees and summoned a bone into his hand. He yanked Calibri to a stop and the unicorn reared, kicking it's front hooves in the air. 

Muffet bared her fangs and tightened her grip on Frisk, all six of her hands squeezing Frisk's arms, torso and neck.

His eye sockets widened and his eye flared. Muffet's soul glowed blue through her chest and she yelped as she flew into the air against her will. Frisk stumbled away, reaching out to Papyrus's outstretched hand. 

"Frisk! Don't move!" Sneered Muffet. Purple threads. Frisk collapsed onto the murky ground. She cried out against the pull on her soul, which fought like an animal in a bear trap. Her body spasmed as she tried to disobey the command. Papyrus watched in horror as blood seeped out of her nose. 

"Let me go, Papyrus. I can do more to your precious Frisk than tell her when she can walk or speak. Care for a _demonstration_?" She hissed. Papyrus snarled and focused all his energy on keeping her from moving. 

"I don't want a demonstration. Hand her over and maybe I'll spare your life," he snarled. Frisk's body shook. She looked up to see Undyne's house engulfed in fire. Alexander… 

_"Frisk, keep fighting!"_ Screamed Chara. She shrieked as her soul thrashed against Muffet's magic, her body twisting, her hands flailing as if trying to hit and punch everything and nothing at the same time. 

"Frisk… carve the letter M into your arm…" said Muffet through clenched teeth. Papyrus's eyes widened as the purple threads glinted in the faux moon light. 

Frisk felt icy dread pool in her stomach as her hands seized and groped through the darkness, trying to find any kind of sharp object. She struggled, fought, wrenched her body, screamed in agony. 

"Stop! Order her to stop!" Demanded Papyrus. Muffet smirked as Frisk snagged the very knife Muffet had used against her. She held the knife up with shaking hands and slowly, hands trembling as they tried to fight against the possession, cut into her own skin. She cried in agony as blood oozed out, glinting in the dim light of Waterfall. Her body and soul were tearing each other apart as they fought. 

Papyrus dropped Muffet as Frisk dug into her own skin. Muffet staggered back and he tried to stop Frisk. His hand struck out and her soul glinted blue before the purple thread shocked him and his magic was broken on her. Nothing. 

He didn't know what else he could do! He couldn't just let Muffet order Frisk to harm herself, and he couldn't kill the bitch without killing Frisk too. 

"That'll do, dearie," she said with a giggle of cruel delight at her control. The will subsided and Frisk dropped the knife with an agonized cry. Blood gushed out of her arm. Papyrus stumbled for her, but stopped at the realization that Muffet truly did have all the power. 

He tried to reason in his mind how he could do this. She was right there. He could save her if he could only outsmart Muffet!

Papyrus and Frisk shared a mortified stare as they both realized that was merely a naive dream. Alexander… 

"Forget about me! Go save Alexander and Undyne from her Hitman!" Papyrus staggered back and looked behind him at the burning house. He didn't even know if this Alexander was still alive. 

"Yes, Papyrus… Dante works fast and you might already be too late!" Hissed Muffet as Shelob rose from the brush. 

"Please…" she whimpered. Papyrus clenched his jaw. He was powerless! He looked back at Frisk. 

"We're going to come back for you, I promise." Frisk nodded her head as tears sprung into her eyes. All her anger at the brothers seemed to evaporate at the promise of being with them again. To be with Sans again. To be safe again. 

Muffet dragged her onto the back of her disgusting pet and whistled. Papyrus staggered back as the spider scurried into the swamp. He turned to the house engulfed in fire and growled, rage filling his soul. He couldn't wait around anymore, he couldn't play by Muffet's games. Not after tonight. That little bug needed to be crushed! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You didn't think I'd let her off that easy did ya? But worry not, Muffet's done playing with Frisk, she's ready to move on to the final stage of her plan. (So no more drugs and forced prostitution, rest assured knowing that is over) 
> 
> Up Next: Undyne and the Gaster Brothers join forces and make plans to go on the offensive.


	58. Common Ground

**A/N: Hey guys! Today is an exciting day! The election is over, and... Whoo boy, I've never been happier. Let's just say that. Anyway, I haven't done an art dump in a while, soooo ART DUMP!**

**[Sans & Frisk art dump](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d07dd1b7f5a14197b6e49a8594b118da/15e978290ffadd5c-7b/s2048x3072/a86677c800401ea6e6aea90b5846a96b092ab5e1.pnj) **

**[Crack Comic of Chapter 57](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ed763e51f43116553204b8aa9d541315/bf5427a60536d261-f4/s2048x3072/9c1729f73abec0289a55b27287c885c4a8a9c1cf.jpg) **

**[Frisk's Labyrinth fanart](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d34d5a2be8c52c07218463b6a0732a1b/aa639444b0564c11-98/s1280x1920/9b2b2d71db17f3925f4f3f091509df49c38d23d5.jpg) **

**[Sans w/ two doberman pinschers](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2c00627974c69d8973bbeb18d79d64c2/09be2bee87cc97f2-c2/s2048x3072/235f94c27ffa4a6684ea5d6fb6d0ace99e1e6308.jpg) **

**[Sans and Asriel as Cody Ko and Noel Miller](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6783a7bc747b9f20e0b8fce90decbedf/99006ccb16f97cd3-21/s2048x3072/940131f787253382e1c0e85b6c2f391c8d409def.jpg) **

**[Sans and Frisk as Wall•E and EVE ](https://photos.app.goo.gl/AuYGZCLZbhdSN4zp6) **

**[Sans and Asriel singing "Miss Jackson" by Outkast because I thought it was funny](https://photos.app.goo.gl/rxqA8NU4ngyLEXGD7) **

**Guys if you have any fanart you want to create for WDYW, please do so, I love fanart, and I love you readers. Now, without further ado—**

* * *

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Common Ground 

* * *

Undyne's ears rang as her vision spun. She was surrounded by darkness, the crack and pop of fire and the distant music of crickets and water gurgling at the shoreline. A blue and orangish-red light flashed and a shadow approached her. 

"Wha… where is the human?" She murmured as the shadow stooped down. Two shadows. One limp and illuminated by a small blue light, the other's eyes flaring with bright orange fire. She shied away, holding her hand up weakly as she came back to her senses. 

"She's… Muffet took her," murmured a very familiar voice. Undyne rubbed her eyes as her head grew fuzzy. Her temples began to ache. She definitely had a concussion. 

"Papyrus?" She groaned as he clasped a firm hand on her shoulder. She gritted her teeth as his red mist surrounded her. Her skin stung like ice and fire. 

⁂

_"What is she doing here?"_

_"Sans! Don't be rude… get Flowey. He needs to heal this… man."_

_"Who is_ he?" 

_"... I don't know. But Frisk begged me to save him—"_

_"—Frisk!?—"_

_"I'm sure Undyne can tell us all about it once she comes to her senses."_

  
  


⁂

Disorientation. The ground was spinning. The lights, blinding and saturated. Undyne squinted as a sharp pang hit her head. She raised her hand to the cut on her forehead. That damned hitman. She was getting sloppy with her fighting. 

"So… you're awake. Might wanna start talkin', if ya know what's good for ya," growled the voice of a certain skeleton. She shuddered and jerked back against the couch at the realization that _Sans Gaster_ was sitting across from her. 

"About what, asshole?" She spat back as she winced in pain. Sans bared his teeth, but a hand stopped him from lunging forward. Clearly the bad blood between them still boiled high. 

"I can take it from here, brother," said Papyrus. Sans growled under his breath and stood up from the ottoman. Undyne watched him warily as he leaned against the back corner. 

Papyrus sighed and crumbled into an arm chair. The fireplace popped and hissed, which only served to remind Undyne of the fires that consumed her house. 

"How did you come to possess Frisk?" He asked. Sans narrowed his eyes and leaned into the question, his eyes burning holes into the back of her neck. 

"Um… it was a coincidence. I wanted to get payback on Mettaton—"

"—Mettaton!?" Snapped Sans. He and Papyrus shared a disgusted look. Undyne sighed and nodded solemnly. 

"I… Barged into him uh, shit how do I say this… using her? Like she was some kind of—"

"—Don't…finish that sentence…" Undyne hesitated as she glanced back at Sans. He looked mortified. It was actually the first time Undyne had seen him so distressed. 

"Right… anyway, I guess you could say I beat the shit out of him… and then something came over me and instead of killing her, I took her with me. She was… in really bad shape. She was in this weird coma. Alex got her out of it," she explained, her voice trailing off the longer she went on. 

"Alex… is that the guy upstairs? The Minotaur?" Asked Sans. Undyne nodded and sighed as she rubbed her eye. 

"How long did you have her under your care?" Asked Papyrus. Undyne lowered her eyes and frowned. 

"Not long enough to really do any long term help for her. Only three days. Then that bastard set my house on fire… the human… _Frisk…_ she's a weird one. Not like any human I've ever met," she murmured as her mind replayed the image of looking up to see Frisk dragging her to safety as the fire burned above her. 

"She draws you in, right?" Uttered Sans knowingly. Undyne shot him a look and nodded slowly. 

"She saved my life. She came back for _me_ , instead of running to safety," she said. Sans's eyes glinted as a distant sadness pooled in those abyssal sockets. 

“That sounds so like her…” he murmured. Papyrus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Arial jumped into his lap and mewed as she rubbed against him affectionately. Undyne pointed at the shade, her mouth agape. 

“Hey! That’s the shade that got into my house and… How did you guys do it? Right under my nose? She was a human the whole time… I should’ve paid more attention. I was lost in my own… Forget it.” Papyrus and Sans shared a look. 

“You’re not going to go to the king.” It wasn’t a request, it was a statement and Undyne narrowed her eyes. She glared at Papyrus and leaned back against the couch. 

“Well no. I know everyone thinks I’m his prop...but Asgore can go fuck himself for everything he’s done to me and Alphys. But let’s be clear about something, I’m not doing this for you, or for your benefit—”

“—Well, of course not—”

“—Um excuse me, I’m not finished. You two don’t scare me. Don’t think for a Goddamn second that anything I do is influenced by you. I’m not going to let Muffet win. This was made personal the moment the love of my life was taken by _her_ drug. I’m doing this for Alphys… Because if Muffet wins, Asgore wins, along with his fucking system. I just can’t be another cog in his machine anymore and if putting aside my animosity towards humanity means sticking a wrench into his clockwork, then I’m gonna fuckin’ do it. I’m tired of losing to him. So no, I’m not doing this for you or because you told me to, I’m doing this for me, and for my honor!” _Clap… clap… clap…_ She shot a disgruntled look at Sans. 

“What a speech. An inspiration to all…” he grumbled. Papyrus rolled his eyes and glanced at Undyne with an apologetic look. 

“Forgive my brother, it’s been a rough month for both of us. We just… we want Frisk to be safe and happy. We have no ulterior motives. Not anymore.” Undyne’s eye softened. This was probably the first time she had ever seen the Gaster brothers be vulnerable. Be _humble._ She lowered back into her seat. 

“Then I guess we have a common understanding… it’s time the both of us stopped… letting Asgore pit the two of us against each other.” They shared a small look of understanding, the same fleeting look they sometimes shared during long military meetings and the Purge. They had never tried to find common ground before, but here it was… Asgore and his kill or be killed law had to be dismantled. Strange that it took a _human woman_ for them to realize they were more alike than they had first presumed. 

“A house divided falls…” murmured Papyrus. He had been so blind. He felt his soul grow warm with a familial love for the little human at the notion that she had bridged an icy gap. He had been right…. He had been right about her being the way they could finally overcome Asgore. But it wasn’t through her death, was it? It was through her _life._

“Isn’t that a human quote—” 

“—Nevermind that! In the wise words of Nicholas Creamer, you’re affiliated with us now, and there’s no turning back! You might say we’re traitors to the crown; never has a partnership been so dangerous for a dictator.” Undyne laughed nervously at the idea. She glanced down as Papyrus shoved his hand toward her, a grin lighting up his usually scowling mug. She hesitantly reached out to grab his hand, and the two shook on it. 

“Great. Now that we’re all… friends… howzabout we actually come up with an offense,” growled Sans with bubbling annoyance. 

“We can attack her house. Swoop in, grab Frisk and burn it down. Maybe even kill the bitch, God knows she deserves it. Eye for an eye, you know?” Said Undyne. Papyrus smirked at the plan, but Sans grimaced. 

“It’s not that easy. Muffet has a spell on Frisk that connects their souls. If Muffet gets hurt, so would Frisk. Muffet can also make her do anything she demands her to do… and I can’t teleport her away. We’d have to cast a counter spell and I don’t know how long it’ll take,” he said. Undyne went silent as she wrestled with her thoughts and schemes. 

“Do you know the counter spell?” She asked. Sans nodded curtly and she shrugged as if the whole thing was simple. 

“We’d need to create a distraction then. Something to lure her away from her house… maybe an attack on one of her casinos. I’d really like to tear those gambling pits to the ground.” Papyrus’s eyes lit up and he leaned into the scheme with a gusto. 

“Nyah-hah-hah! I’m liking the sound of this… but do you really think she’d leave Frisk alone again?” He asked. Undyne sat back as she once again delved into her thoughts. Sans paced about the living room and the two schemed silently as the clock ticked away the seconds. 

“It doesn’t hurt to try. The important thing is that we keep Muffet from ordering Frisk to do anything while we try to break the spell. You may not be able to teleport her away, but we can still walk away with her. I know, I’ve done it—”

“—I want in.” Papyrus, Undyne and Sans all jolted at the rumbling voice of Alexander. They looked to the hall and saw him looming in the shadows. Papyrus nodded and they watched as he limped into the living room. Asriel sat aloft on his shoulders, his seedy face drooping with exhaustion, his petals wilted. Healing the Minotaur must’ve taken a lot out of him. No wonder; Papyrus had found him half dead. 

“I know Muffet’s organization inside and out. I can get Frisk out, if you lot could keep Muffet busy. Also, I highly doubt Muffet is going to take her back to her house. She does all her dirty dealings at the Hourglass,” he suggested as he leaned against the armchair. Undyne nodded slowly. 

“Someone will have to take Shelob down. Her spider pet… and she might have Dante guarding her, plus a bunch of other cronies that work for any crumb she gives. We’d need an army.” Undyne shuddered at the reminder of that hitman. 

“I’ll take Dante,” she said firmly. She needed to prove to herself that she could truly do this. She couldn’t allow herself to be useless any longer. For too long she had been exhausted and had allowed herself to grow complacent. She _needed_ to ignite the fight back in her soul… and she was aching for a rematch. 

“I’ll get rid of the spider,” claimed Papyrus, a shudder crawling down his spine as he recalled the image of that grotesque beast.

“Perfect. That leaves Muffet to me and oh _-ho-ho-_ boy… have I been dying to make her _pay…”_ growled Sans almost inaudibly as he pictured crushing her skull into the pavement like the bug she was. Alexander smirked to himself as Asriel rose on his vines. 

“Then we have a plan. You three take care of the threats, Alexander and I get Frisk the hell out of there. I’ll cast the counter spell. Once the spell is broken… then what? Do we kill Muffet?” he asked. Sans wanted to… she deserved to go to hell for everything she’d ever done. 

“Yeah—”

“—How would we know she’s dead?” Asked Undyne. Asriel glanced down at his leaves. 

“I have a way of getting around. As soon as I’m done, I’ll find you and tell you it’s time. A signal if you will.” They all nodded, sharing looks of mutual understanding and a semblance of wary trust. 

“I’ll coordinate a small militia to help attack the Hourglass. I’ll call Nick and Doug, see if they can rally enough people to create a full out riot. Maybe we can get Anthony and Grant for a little favor. Get Julian to hook them up with some firepower.” Alexander glanced up at the mention of his old boss. 

“He’s still alive?” Sans nodded and gestured to the ground below them. 

“Yeah, barely. He’ll do anything if it means living another day. Fuckin… _simpering,_ old bitch,” he spat. Alexander nodded and gave a curt chuckle. 

“No more than he deserves. He’s the one that made the drug Muffet used on Frisk,” he said. Sans’s eyes went black and he looked below his feet. After this was all over, he was definitely going to kill him. He was sure Frisk wouldn’t mind a little bit of violence against the people who tortured, sex trafficked and exploited her. 

He shook at the thought that he might actually see her again. That they might actually be able to pull this off. He could hold her again… but most importantly, she’d be free. He’d follow her anywhere she led if they could save her. No… not if. This wasn’t an if situation anymore. It couldn’t be. It had to be more. _When_ they saved her. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Undyne and Sans in the same room together... Rare, Undyne and the Gaster brothers joining forces!? Even rarer. It appears Frisk may quite possibly be the most revolutionary person to grace the underground. 
> 
> Up Next: The forces of the Gaster brothers attack Muffet... And Muffet makes her last move on the chess board of tactics. 
> 
> Also, I just want to announce that in celebration for kicking cinnamon Hitler out of office, I will be dropping chapter 59 on WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 11TH which is next Wednesday. I will also drop a one shot smut scene on my Tumblr if you would be interested in that. Thank you all for reading! 💞💞


	59. Russian Roulette

**A/N: I promised you an early release of Chapter 59 and much like my reapers, I always fulfill my promises.**

**Speaking of, here is the[Election Smut scene](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rQ95TbqJxHSdPqLGbd2pB7XvWbYXAoR24HHdCy7L0L4/edit?usp=drivesdk) that I promised as well! **

**Now without further ado, please enjoy, Chapter 59~**

* * *

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Russian Roulette 

* * *

“They’re going to come after you now.” Muffet giggled wryly at Dante’s words as she shoved Frisk into the secured basement of her casino. An anguished cry clawed its way out of Frisk’s throat as she staggered back to her feet. Muffet smirked down at her as Dante closed the door on them. 

“Don’t come near me,” she growled and Muffet threw her head back and laughed; she leaned against the stainless steel table and locked her in the stare of her six black eyes. Frisk’s lip trembled as she backed against the wall. Muffet stalked toward her, her fangs glinting in the dim, blue light. 

“Worry not, dearie, your friends are coming to rescue you. What they’ll do once they have you, I have absolutely no idea. I do know that they’ll probably cause me a lot of collateral damage. That would be such a pity. I’d never forgive them,” she crooned. Frisk narrowed her eyes and scowled at her. 

“Well then you said it yourself, I’m too much of a liability for you. I’m not worth keeping around,” she tried to reason. Muffet kicked the table against the wall and Frisk flinched. She sometimes forgot just how strong monsters were. Her hands flexed and she grinned at Frisk with a cruel delight. 

“I didn’t need you to tell me that, dearie. I have _plans_ for you. I’ve _had_ plans for you since the moment we met. You falling into my hands was simply... _convenient_.” Frisk yelped as Muffet’s fist cuffed her across the face. She had moved with lightning speed! Frisk stumbled, her hand coming to her face to shield herself. 

Muffet’s hands reached out and clasped her by the back of her shirt. Frisk staggered as Muffet threw her to the ground. 

“Come on, Frisky, let’s have some fun before the party starts!” She hissed as she struck Frisk in the ribs with the point of her heel. Frisk rolled over against the wall and choked as the air was knocked out of her. Before Frisk could react, Muffet ensnared her by the throat and dragged her off the floor. Her nails dug into her skin and she giggled with cruel delight. 

“You’re the perfect tool in my agenda… that’s all you are, dearie.” Frisk’s head was slammed against the wall and she screamed. _An asset!_ She felt something deep inside her burn at the reminder of that fact. Muffet glanced down at the ruby, heart locket hanging around her neck. The stone rested on her chest as red light began to pour through her skin, her ribs casting shadows in the light. 

_“She’s distracted, filter her magic through your determination and use it against her!”_ Frisk felt a surge of empowerment at Chara’s encouragement and she drove her knee into Muffet’s stomach. The air was knocked out of Frisk’s own lungs as if she had been the one who was kicked. Muffet looped her other hand around her thigh and threw her back down. Frisk rolled back to her knees and growled as Muffet circled around her. 

“I won’t let you win,” she croaked. Muffet grinned and swung her leg to kick her across the face. Frisk haphazardly blocked the blow. Her arm blossomed with pain as she reached out to drag Muffet off of her feet. Muffet smacked her and twisted her leg around her hand before turning her body; jerking her leg out of her grasp. Frisk went with the momentum and pounced against her, tackling the woman to the floor. 

Her soul began to burn brighter, energy surging through her as it tried to break past the enchanted chains keeping it trapped. She raised her fist and punched Muffet with a heightened strength. The pain exploded on her own face and she gasped. Muffet wrapped her legs around her hips and twisted, pinning Frisk below her with a grunt. Her eyes burned with a sadistic gleam as she ensnared her fingers in her hair and slammed her head on the floor. 

_“Frisk, find her magic!”_ Frisk screamed in agony as Muffet pummeled her into the concrete. Muffet’s laughter rang in her ears. She tried to reach her focus past her own pain, her determination consuming her body. The pain grew numb as it was replaced by hot fire. As her vision grew blurry and her head spun, her mind brushed against a silky thread. A spider’s web. She tried to remember the incantations that Damian had taught her. Muffet had bonding magic… 

Frisk’s fingers flexed and she snagged Muffet’s wrist. Her soul flashed and Muffet flew back against the wall as her determination exploded outwards. Frisk’s fist flexed as her vision spun and pain flooded her sensors. She shook her head, which only made the aching worse. _Focus Frisk. Find her magic again, channel that and create a rope like Damian would’ve._ The spider webs. As Frisk whispered the words she had learned from Damian, her fingers began to weave a shimmering purple rope. 

Muffet’s eyes glittered as Frisk stumbled in an attempt to keep her balance. She crossed her two front arms and leaned against the wall, only slightly out of breath. 

“I’m not going to deny it, humans continue to impress me. You’re all so fucking relentless,” she spat as Frisk held up the lavender chains. 

“I’ll show you just how _fucking relentless_ I can be,” she snarled as she shot toward Muffet with a boost of speed. Muffet feigned a punch, but Frisk wrapped the rope around her wrist and jerked her forward. Muffet swung into it and threw another punch, which Frisk dodged and followed up with a sharp shove. She tied two of Muffet’s hands to each other and pushed away from her. 

Muffet snickered and turned back to her. 

“Wow… you’ve come so far. You can thank me for that one.” Frisk growled at the words. The only thing she could thank Muffet for was dragging her through miles of pain and suffering. She held a hand up to her aching skull and groaned. 

“I’m sure Asgore will enjoy fighting a more capable opponent,” hummed Muffet. Frisk glanced up, eyes widening in horror as she realized why Muffet was actually doing this. She’d had plans for her. Muffet was an ambitious woman, she was going to try and get through Asgore using her, she just knew it. This was why she was beating her to a pulp! 

“You’re… you’re _evil,”_ she croaked as she stumbled against the table. Muffet smirked and held her chin up. 

“Oh come now, dearie… don’t be so dramatic.” The wheel on the vault’s door turned slowly and Muffet stepped to attention. 

“They’re here.” Frisk felt a glimmer of hope ignite in her soul and she shot a glare at Muffet. Papyrus and Sans were coming for her, she just knew it, and Muffet was going to pay dearly. A cry for justice filled her and she clenched her teeth.

“Looks like our fun has come to an end, dearie,” she crooned as she licked the blood off of her knuckles. Frisk glanced at the open door and made a move to run, but Muffet stepped forward. 

“Not so fast, Frisk, I want you to be still and complacent. We have someplace to be,” she whispered. The purple threads connecting their souls glimmered and Frisk clenched her jaw. She was getting really sick of this God damned spell. 

Muffet pushed her out of the vault. Frisk made a move for the elevator they had come down from, but Muffet grabbed her shoulder and led her down a narrow hallway. 

“Go tell them where we’re going. It’s imperative they know,” she whispered to Dante. The fire imp nodded curtly and turned on his heel to leave through the elevator. It was a trap! She shot Muffet a glare of pure hatred. 

“I hope you know, there’s a special place in hell for you,” she spat. Muffet smirked at her, fangs glinting in the red light as they marched down the corridor. 

“Oh, honey, I know. It’s called the throne.” 

  
  


⁂

The Gaster brothers stood outside the entrance of the Hourglass Casino. Their eye sockets were empty and abyssal. The general flanked them on the left, Doug flanked them on the right. A small gathering crowded behind them. Two stone lions, a Sphinx, the La'Pine sisters and Alice; and those were just the people from Snowden. Alexander stood side by side with Nick, and several unknown men and women stood behind the blue bunny. 

Smoke poured out from their eye sockets and filled the parking lot. A rumbling growl resounded from the red clouds as the smoke dispersed to reveal two, giant, dragon skulls. An awed gasp escaped the small gathering of rag-tag militia members at the sight. 

Sans rose his hand and his eye flared with red fire. The dragons snarled and their jaws fell agape as two blasts of energy shot into the building. The entrance of the casino exploded and an ear-splitting chorus of shrieks escaped the building. 

The brothers disappeared in their red smoke, and the rest of the rag-tag gang pounced forth. As casino patrons ran for their lives, Muffet's goons jumped into action and went on the defense as they attacked. 

Sans teleported in the middle of the casino, the red hourglass looming above him. As the last of the glowing red sand trickled to the bottom, a creak resounded above him and he glanced up as gears and steam began to turn the giant hourglass.

A figure skated down the glass and pounced into him. Sans grabbed his torso and slung the man to the ground. The monster jumped back to his feet and struck out with his hands in quick jabs. Sans dodged the punches, before his eye flared and he held out his hand. Blue light. His opponent's eyes widened as Sans flung him across the room. The man went crashing into several slot machines before rolling to the floor. Sans turned away, not bothering to check if he had stayed on the ground. 

"I don't have time for that asshole," he snarled to himself as he shoved through the crowd of terrified monsters. 

Undyne sprinted underneath the turning hourglass, jumping up onto one of the rails and riding it as it swept into the air. As the railing for the second floor came into view, Undyne launched herself towards the second floor and swung over the rails. 

She yelped and threw a spear at an attacker as she touched down. The figure weaved out of the projectile's way and threw a punch into her gut. 

"Hello, general, here for a rematch?" snarled Dante as he gave her a curt shove. Undyne growled and kicked his knee as they wrestled together. She ensnared his throat with her hand and tried to summon a spear. She just needed— Dante smirked and smoke wafted up. She gasped as her hand was scorched by his fire and she jerked back. 

"Muffet has a message for you all; the pretty whore is gettin' taken to Asgore as we speak. Maybe now someone will finally fuckin kill her," he sneered. Undyne growled and threw her fists in rapid succession, her leg flying up in a kick. As he stumbled back, she summoned a spear in her hand and pinned him to the wall. 

She hesitated and looked back. They were telling Asgore? Her eyes widened. If Asgore knew she had been there... Would he kill her? Would he go after Alphys? Dante grinned and wrenched the spear out from his jacket. 

Undyne gasped as he hurled the spear down on her. Her hand darted up and she grabbed it, and using all her strength she threw him over the railing. She needed to tell Papyrus and Sans. _God fucking damnit! That bitch is always two steps ahead!_

"It was a trap! I should've known," gasped Alex when Undyne told them. Sans snarled as Asriel's eyes widened. Asriel thought through what Muffet's motivations could possibly have been. Why would she have her most trusted assassin tell them where she was taking the human? Unless she wanted them to lay siege to the castle to try and rescue Frisk before Asgore… She was going to out them to the king… it would get them out of her way and… Asriel wailed with desperate frustration. 

"No! We can't let her win!" He cried. Papyrus glanced back as he came to the same realization. What were they going to do now? 

“NEW PLAN! Undyne, get out of here. We need someone on the inside. Sans and I...” he looked to his brother and the two nodded slowly as they came to the same conclusion. 

“Sans and I will attack the castle.” 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Frisk was half-walked, half-dragged up the stairs of the palace. Several royal guardsmen watched with cruel curiosity as they laid their eyes on the human woman. 

Frisk absentmindedly scratched the spider bite tracks marks and rashes on her arms, despite better knowledge, as fear flooded her body. 

Asgore. Muffet was giving her up to Asgore. It was really over for her. She was going to die. Her soul was going to go to that tyrant and only God knew what he would do then. Tears sprung in her eyes as the doors were opened. 

The last time she had walked those golden halls was at the masquerade. Memories, good and bad flooded her mind and she hung her head as tears streamed down her bloodied face. 

"It's going to be glorious, dearie. When the brothers finally attack the king. Seven human souls. A world open to conquering. The underground is dying slowly and surely; all thanks to the madman sitting on that throne," whispered Muffet. Frisk's lip trembled. 

"This was your plan all along? Why the fuck did you torture me for a month then?" Muffet giggled as if the answer were obvious. Frisk supposed it was. To break her. To squeeze as much money as she could out of her before finally dumping off her corpse and reaping the final reward. Maybe even to rile the brothers up enough to actually go through with besieging the palace for her. She felt nothing but raw hatred, anger and disgust for the _Black Widow_ as they traipsed through the castle corridors. 

The doors to the Judgement hall swung open and Muffet shoved her onto the golden floors. Two of her hands were still tied behind her back, but she had four more. She could care less for the temporary bindings. 

Golden light cascaded through the tall, stained glass windows and Frisk tried to keep herself from shaking. A soldier came out to greet Muffet, shooting a look of pure disgust at the human at his feet. 

"The king is waiting for you in the garden… We can take the vermin from here," he growled. Muffet snorted with laughter and put a condescending hand on his chest. She said nothing as she shoved him out of her way and grabbed the collar of Frisk's shirt. 

The soldier stammered, completely baffled by her show of authority. 

The garden was a small open courtyard just off of the Judgement hall. Frisk couldn't believe just how well managed and… pretty it was. Filled with golden flowers and pretty primroses… several fruit trees and lots of well manicured hydrangea and oleander plants. It was almost calming, but there was a storm of a man standing in the center of it all. His very shadow seemed to wilt the flowers it was cast upon. Asgore Dreemur. 

"Your majesty… a gift," said Muffet aridly as she tossed Frisk before his feet and gave a sweeping bow. Asgore slowly turned and glared down at her. He was just as dark and foreboding as the night of the masquerade. His amber eyes pierced through hers, as if he saw the very contents of her soul. 

She stared, wide-eyed up at him as a glint of something unknown caught his eyes. 

"Rarely do you ever come bearing gifts, Ms. Muffet," he uttered, not breaking eye contact with the woman at his feet. Muffet smirked and held her arms open. 

"I can take it back, if you're displeased," she said with a smirk. Asgore finally broke his deathly stare, his amber eyes flickering up to meet Muffet's. 

"That will be unnecessary. Leave us." Muffet narrowed her eyes at the demand. She glanced down at Frisk and lifted her chin. Frisk shook as Muffet slowly turned and left the way she came. _She didn't give me an order... she_ wants _me to fight him!_

Frisk's breath shook and she looked up at the king whom she was now alone with. Sweat beaded on her brow as her soul burned. She counted the seconds before his attack. She wasn’t going to go without a fight, and maybe that's just what he wanted. 

Frisk watched him warily as he plucked a white rose from a bush. He held it up and smelled it. His amber eyes found hers again and he dropped the flower. The rose hit the ground with a soft thud and Frisk winced. 

"I have an affinity for your human poetry… and I'm feeling sentimental today," he said softly as he gazed across his garden. Frisk was frozen in terror as he began to recite a poem of reapers, flowers and death. 

_"There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between._

_"Shall I have naught that is fair?" saith he; "Have naught but the bearded grain?_

_Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,_

_He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves._

_"My Lord has need of these flowers gay," The Reaper said, and smiled; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where He was once a child._

_"They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear."_

_And the mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above._

_Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath, The Reaper came that day:_

_"T'was an_ angel _visited the green earth, And took the flowers away."_

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Asgore never fails to give me chills. Muffet has just declared "Checkmate" 
> 
> Up Next: Asgore battles the brothers and Frisk proves she's not a damsel in distress.


	60. Determination

Chapter Sixty: Determination

* * *

**_"T was an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away."_ **

Angel… Was he talking about the prophecy? Was he talking about her? 

Frisk raised to her feet as Asgore stared down at her. His eyes glinted and he unbuckled his flowing cloak. The king tossed the cloak onto a bench and looked her up and down, scanning her broken body. 

She clenched her teeth and stepped back as she tried to search the burning star of her soul. She let out a long sigh as she stretched her mind like stretching fingers into the sun. She was sure there would come a day she wouldn’t have to meditate on it. If she even had any days left, that was. Dread pooled in her stomach at the knowledge that Asgore would no doubtedly destroy any semblance of life she had left. 

_ “Stay determined, Frisk. You haven’t died yet. You still have a chance.”  _ Frisk nodded slowly as Asgore circled her. 

“I believe we’ve met before, child. Once upon a time,” he uttered. Frisk pursed her lips and shifted away from him. She glanced down on the jewel glittering on her chest and she narrowed her eyes. 

“Yes… we have. I’m Chara,” she muttered. Asgore froze and shot her a glare, his eyes flickering with enraged fire just beneath those languid, amber irises. 

_ “Why did you do that?”  _ breathed Chara as Asgore glared at her. Frisk took a deep breath and stepped turning towards the king with a scowl. 

“You have a lot of nerve," he growled. Frisk glanced around. She didn't really know what she was doing. Rarely in her life had she ever known what she was doing, but she was really good at improv. Muffet may have her own schemes, but Frisk did too. She wasn't going to let herself fail. 

“Chara… was poisoned… and it was  _ your  _ fault wasn't it? And then your son—”

“—Stop it—”

“—Died soon after. And it's all… your… fault,” she growled as she reached through her mind and focused on the rays of red light. 

Asgore stood at his full height and gave a low, rumbling snarl at her accusation. He lunged forward and Frisk's soul sparked. She allowed herself to take the hit, focusing all her strength on the mark. Despite this, a sharp crack filled her ears and pain flooded her body. He had cracked her ribs! She croaked at the pain and fell with the momentum of his energy. This hadn't been the first time her ribs had been broken. As she tried to focus her determination to numb the pain, she let out a strained breath. 

"It's not going to work this time. You killed Chara, but you can't kill me." Asgore grabbed her face by the palm of his large hand and dragged her up. Frisk clasped his arm and put her weight into her biceps as she desperately tried not to let her neck strain. 

"Trust me, child, it'll be like snapping a twig—"

"—YOUR MAJESTY!" Asgore dropped Frisk and turned toward his servant with a snarl. 

"WHAT!?" he snapped. Frisk crawled away from him and coughed, only causing more pain to explode in her sides. 

"The reaper brothers! They're attacking the castle!" Frisk's lips twitched into a small smirk and she shot a triumphant look at Asgore. His eyes narrowed and he glanced down at her. He straightened and smoothed his hair as he gave a quiet laugh. 

"I see now… Guards! Take this pest to the dungeons. I'll deal with her later." Two royal guardsmen swept into the courtyard and dragged her to her feet. 

"Sir! Don't you want to use the human soul against the reapers?" Asgore considered it, but he shook his head. 

“I don't need to waste the human souls on those maggots. Take her away." His shadow stalked out of the room. She prayed to whatever god was listening for the brothers to prevail. 

She knew this was part of Muffet's plan, but she couldn't have been more relieved. If she got out of this alive, she'd make sure to give them a hero's welcome. Their distraction would buy her enough time to hopefully escape. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


There had been no point at trying to negotiate. Mind games wouldn't work when Muffet had already checkmated them. The only way out now was brute force. 

Sans was already running out of energy, there were just never enough hours in the night. He ducked below the thrust of a sword, before grabbing the hilt and knocking the soldier away. A soldier who, just yesterday, would've taken orders from them. But, now, they were traitors to the crown, attacking  _ Asgore's  _ castle. It definitely wasn't a good look. Sans didn't care. 

Alexander and Asriel were making a perimeter around the castle, so it was just Sans and Papyrus. Their militia of sorts had fallen back with Undyne when they all realized Muffet's plan. 

Sans was going to kill her. Plain and simple. That was if they could make it out alive. Even without the souls, Asgore was strong. And he was marching out to meet them head on, his trident blazing with the fires of hell. He had been waiting for this battle since the day W.D Gaster's wife had fallen by his hand. The reapers had been wiped out by a virus, but the Gasters would be killed by the sword. 

Papyrus hesitated as Asgore shot him a wicked grin. 

"I knew you were hiding something from me the moment I laid eyes on the girl. Strong little thing. It'll be all the more satisfying when I kill her!" He swung his trident against Papyrus, who went tumbling across the floor.

Papyrus kicked himself back to his feet and slid to a stop. Sans snarled at the assault as Papyrus staggered to regain his balance. So he hadn't killed her yet. Good. They weren't too late. 

Sans teleported behind Asgore and smoke poured out from his eye. A dark rumbling thunder of a dragon's shadow. Asgore whirled around to come face to face with the beast and swung his trident up. As the beast let out a blast of pure energy, Asgore hurled a wall of fire in its path. He was knocked back by the force and the king skidded across the alabaster floors.

Papyrus raced forth, his hand rising and with it, a maze of bones. Asgore knocked them away, the brittle bone shattered at the swing of his trident. He held his hand up and a bout of fire spewed out. The curtains and bannisters caught ablaze and the brothers took cover behind the pillars, the heat searing into them. They shared a look, trying to piece a strategy together. 

Asgore chuckled and stalked through the Judgement hall. 

"Not only has the last human I need fallen into my hands, but the  _ final reapers _ have been delivered to me as an act of Providence… today will be a day worth celebrating," uttered the tyrant as he shot blasts of white, hot fire through the pillars. 

It had definitely not been the brothers plan to face Asgore, but they were now caged tigers. Papyrus counted the steps as the king grew closer to them. His tactic was clear and Sans understood immediately. Red and orange smoke. 

Asgore growled, his eyes glinting with malice as he estimated where they would appear. As he was about to whip around, the brothers pounced through two opposite portals of smoke and blue bones shot out through the ground, staking Asgore through the chest, legs, arms and feet. A low rumble of thunder escaped his maw as the icy non-pain flooded his body. 

“You try to kill me as if I am an average demon…  _ I am Asgore Dreemur; king of Hell!"  _ A ripple of fire shot through the bones as Asgore's body exploded with a hellish burst of heat. The bones shattered and he stumbled away as he colderized his wounds with a press of his burning hands. 

Sans clenched his jaw to try and hide his shock. Papyrus panted and doubled over as he felt his energy drain. 

“Getting tired?—” Asgore gasped as Sans's eyes flared and his soul was gripped by icy blue light. Sans slammed him against the ceiling, floor, wall— Papyrus flicked his wrist and a jagged bone shot out of the wall. Sans threw Asgore against it in an attempt to stake him. 

A screech filled the hall and a shadowy figure snatched Asgore out of the air. Asgore went tumbling to the floor, dust puffing out of his mouth as he coughed. 

Sans and Papyrus glanced up to see the council flooding the hall, their glowing red eyes piercing through them. Asgore staggered to his feet before he straightened and smoothed his greying hair back. They were now outnumbered. 

  
  


⁂

  
  


Her window of escape was slim. She could hear the rumbling of the battle between the brothers and the king. She only hoped it would be enough. 

Frisk glanced up at the guards as they manhandled her down a flight of stone hewn stairs. Her sides screamed from her broken ribs, but she couldn't let her own injuries slow her down. She needed to distract them. 

"Why do you follow that tyrant? What are you scared of?" She asked. The guard to her left twitched with annoyance. 

"Shut up,  _ Human."  _ She narrowed her eyes and looked at the other soldier. 

“Why should I be quiet when you're just going to kill me anyway?  _ What are you—” _

“—I said shut it!” He drew his sword and the other guard growled. 

"She's trying to goad you Arden!" Frisk yanked her hand out from Arden's grasp and fell against the weight of the other guard to swing her leg up. She cried out as pain flooded her. She kicked him in the throat and he stumbled against the wall. The other guard snarled and wrestled with her. Every move sent jolts of agonizing pain down all her sensors. 

"You underestimate humans," she breathed as she elbowed his stomach and ripped his sword out of its sheath. He gasped as she shoved him away and raced down the stairs. Each step was like knives. They shouted and raced after her. 

Frisk came to a stretch of hallway and sprinted full steam ahead, her free arm clutching her sides. 

"Stop her!" Another guard sprung into action and drew his sword. 

_ “Now this next move I'm goin' to teach you is called the Long Tail Guard. It was used many years ago in what you humans would call medieval times. Now… charge at me, and I'll show you how it works.”  _

A surge of empowerment filled her as she was reminded of Doug's teachings. Her vision swayed as she swung her stolen sword against the guard's. She slammed her body into his and sent him crashing onto the ground. 

Her shoulder popped and she gave a strangled cry of pain. Broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. Where had she dealt with that before? Much like the time she had first arrived in the Underground, she wasn't going to let it stop her. She forced her burning legs to keep moving. 

The only problem? There was nowhere to go but into an old industrial elevator. She seethed between her teeth and heaved the gate open. 

The guards behind her laughed as they closed in on her. She gritted her teeth and turned back to face them. 

She raised her chin defiantly despite the scars and blood streaming down her neck. Her vision blurred and she shook her head. Her head was pounding. The lights were stabbing her eyes. They swung for her and she swayed out of the way. Metal screamed against metal as she fought for her life. 

The castle grounds shook and she stumbled. The guards staggered back; she used the slight distraction to her advantage. 

As the ground rumbled and quaked beneath her, she yanked the elevator door open and flung herself inside. They snarled and raced forward as she closed them off. She gasped as they banged on the steel. She was convinced they'd tear right through it.  _ Move the elevator!  _

She jumped into action and frantically pressed the buttons. Slowly, ever so slowly, the elevator began to climb down the shaft, the light flickering over her head. It swayed dangerously and she braced herself against the tight walls. Her ears rang and the light pricked into her vision. She swayed as her vision doubled. 

"Chara… I need you," she whispered. Her necklace beamed with red light as her ghostly friend came to her aid. 

_ "I'm here."  _ Frisk winced at the sound of her voice in her aching head. 

"How do I get out of here?" She asked. The lights flickered and she clenched her jaw as anxiety flooded her. Nausea bubbled in her stomach and she leaned against the elevator wall. 

_ “You're headed into the dungeons. There's a chain of tunnels that leads to the sewers and then out into the mountain path to the barrier. The River Styx flows into the lake."  _ The elevator dinged and she pulled the doors open. 

As she raced out of the elevator, she was met with the swinging axe of an elephant beast. She blocked the heavy blow and went tumbling against the wall. She gasped at the pain. 

Frisk ducked as the axe raked overhead, gravel flying to the ground. She choked on the dust and dodged underneath him. 

His trunk swung out at her and struck her in the back. She screamed as she fell to the ground and gasped as he raised his large foot to stomp down on her. She slashed across his foot with the sword as she rolled out of the way. He roared in pain and staggered back. She climbed back to her feet and broke into a desperate run. 

Her heart thundered in her ears and against her chest. Her breath came short. Her legs burned like lead, but her soul glowed with a fiery determination. She couldn't stop now. She was almost out! 

As she passed by the cells, she could hear the moan of living corpses igniting with a semblance of hope. 

The thunderous stomps of the elephant demon resounded behind her and she tossed away the sword to lighten her weight. Adrenaline pumped through her terror stricken veins. Determination numbed her pain. 

Chara shouted directions and she weaved to and fro through the dim tunnels before finally she arrived at a grate. The elephant bull gave an enraged trumpet. Her soul glinted orange as she ripped the grate open with no effort at all. As the beast swung his axe, she ducked underneath and dove into the rushing water. 

A shock of freezing water hit her as her body crashed into a rushing river. Her lungs tightened and she gasped for air. She slid up against the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath and gagged on the rank air. 

The current was swift. She could hardly keep her bearings as her head bobbed up and under the relentless river. A split in the sewer caught her eyes and she tried to swim against the strong current for the middle wall. Her dislocated shoulder, however, made it near impossible. The water dragged her into the right wing tunnel and she cried out as her head went under again. 

The ceiling grew lower and lower and her lungs were bursting for fresh air. She swam up, her body scraping against the slick stone. 

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't control her own movement. She was completely at the mercy of the currents and the vengeful River Styx. 

Just when she began to panic, her body slammed against the bars of a drain's grate. Her ribs cried out in protest.

Light poured into her vision and she choked as the water rained down upon her. Her head ached and she felt her vision blackening around the edges. She squinted against the bright light as her ears rang. She was suffering a nasty concussion. 

Frisk screamed in growing frustration. The bars dug against her body as the water pressed her against them with relentless force. She could hardly breath. It was freezing. As her eyes blurred, she glanced down at the water rushing past her. Red.  _ Am I… bleeding?  _

Frisk gave a small cry as she banged her fists against the bars. She couldn't just get trapped here! She was so close to her own freedom! She could taste it on her lips, it was right in front of her!  _ No!  _

The palace shook again and she gripped the bars as the tunnel groaned under the battle. 

"Sans…" He was fighting for her… She could feel herself nodding off and she forced herself to stay awake. If she went to sleep, she could suffer severe damage to her brain. She'd dealt with several concussions in her lifetime.  _ I've dealt with a lot…I'm so tired…  _

Black swam at the edges of her vision and she gritted her teeth. Her lip curled with frustration and she yanked and fought against the bars. 

"OPEN! GET OUT OF MY WAY!" she screamed until her throat was hoarse. She gasped against the rank water and felt her eyes prick with tears. She couldn't let herself slip away. Not in a fucking sewer grate!  _ If she was going to die it'd be on her own terms.  _

She didn't belong to Muffet! That wicked woman would not own her destiny, she wouldn't control her life! Asgore was not going to kill her! She wouldn't let him! She wouldn't let him have any more power over the good people of the Underground. 

Not over Charlotte. 

Not over Bonnie. 

Alice…

_ Her mind reached out to the rays of red light that teased the edges of her subconscious. She snagged the light and she felt a surge of energy flood her body. She needed a channel.  _

Nick…

Doug… 

_ Frisk reached further, trying to pull the magic around her. Warmth seared her chest as she snatched a light. It burned her hands… she was holding fire. She was syphoning  _ Asgore's  _ magic.  _

Alexander… 

Undyne… 

_ The heat spread through her body and into her veins. It poured through her muscles like liquid iron until it reached the tips of her fingers.  _

Papyrus… 

_ Sans…  _

Frisk screamed out as she focused her will on the metal bars before her. Her body was glowing from almost every pore as the light in her veins faded from red to a hot orange.  _ She was burning.  _

_ She was a star. _

The water around her sizzled as it turned to vapor around her. The metal of the grate was hot with the fire bursting out of her. The bars turned bright red as it melted apart. 

With a final gasp, she jerked the bars apart and they snapped. The heat immediately receded from her soul and the water slammed against her, dousing her in it's cold embrace. Now without anything holding her back, she was taken with the current. 

Frisk thrashed through the air before she plugged her nose and pointed her feet; she crashed into the water, her body sweeping up from the force. She pumped her good arm and legs, reaching for the shimmer of light breaking through the top of the black water. 

She gasped as she broke the surface, her arms treading water around her. 

"I made it!" She breathed as she swam towards the rocks. Tears flooded her eyes as she dragged herself out of the water. Her arms wavered as she crawled to her feet. She coughed and sputtered as she tried to catch her breath, her eyes blurring with joyful tears. 

The energy and numbness that her determination had provided drained away and her body shook violently. She gagged on nothing as her stomach tried to reject the physical trauma she'd experienced. How was she still alive? 

_ "Frisk, keep going down the mountain path. They'll find you here,"  _ warned Chara. Frisk groaned and staggered to her feet. 

"I… I can't go any further," she whimpered, but she forced her aching body to scale the sheer slope of rocks. Her clothes sagged as water dripped down her body. She slid on shale gravel, white dust coating her skin. There was a tree line that stood between the castle and the rest of the city. She made a beeline for it, her vision growing narrow. Her arm held her side, her shoulder screaming. She would have to pop it back into place. She didn't want to think about it. 

Thinking took too much effort. The ground swam beneath her. She didn't comprehend the shade of the trees when she finally collapsed. She could hear shouts from the castle as royal guardsmen went looking for her. They couldn't let the last human escape. 

She had. She had done it. Her breathing came in short gasps before they finally evened. She couldn't keep her eyes open. She forced herself to stay awake, listening to the birds in the trees and the leaves swaying in the breeze. She let it soothe the storm in her mind. The fear. The adrenaline. Nothing but her and her own breathing.  _ She  _ had done it. 

A fear gripped her heart as she listened to footsteps closing in on her. Had the guards found her? Or was Muffet there to steal her away once again? 

"Frisk!? Frisk!" Her eyes slowly blinked open, the dim light of evening piercing through her lashes. 

"Asriel?" She whispered hoarsely as she recognized the voice. A weak smile pulled the edges of her lips. 

"Alex! Go get the brothers! Frisk… we found you…" he was on the verge of tears. Frisk's lip curled as everything came crashing onto her. The events of that month, the torture, the loneliness, the heart aching sadness and anger. She let out a sob, and her ribs were shot with pain. 

Asriel's leaves brushed against her and she hugged him close. Everything. She was so tired of everything. Muffet had certainly put her mark on her and Frisk couldn't do anything but sob. She was so ready for it to be over. 

"It's ok, it's ok, I have you. I have you." Frisk curled on the ground, clinging to the sentient flower as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

" _Je tu ai manqué! Tu m'as tellement manqué mon amour,"_ she weeped. Asriel nodded slowly, tears pricking his beady eyes. 

"I… I missed you too Frisk… we're gonna get you out of here," he whispered hoarsely as he tried to stifle the emotions threatening to spill over. He had her. She would be safe. He would never let this happen to her ever if he could help it. 

"Sans? I… I need to tell Sans that I forgive him," She breathed. She had forgiven herself for all the mistakes she'd ever made in her life. Sans was fighting a war long before she had even arrived. Her heart ached at the knowledge. She wanted to be happy. She wanted him to be happy. They both deserved that, didn't they? 

Asriel nodded firmly and brushed her blood encrusted hair out of her face. She was in dire need of first aid. 

"They're coming. Just stay with me. Stay with me Frisk," he urged her on. Frisk nodded, her vision going in and out as the world spun around her.

_ "You always used to ask me what I wanted… I know what I want… I want to be yours, Frisk. I want to be with you, I want to protect you, and… and— shit—I… I want to love you. I do love you. Frisk… I love you." _

It was then her head nodded off and she fell into unconsciousness, her body no longer able to keep up with her. 

⁂

_ "Lieutenant! We have her! Fall back!"  _

_ They had her.  _

_ "You can't run from me, Reapers! You can't hide the human from me forever. This is my realm. I will stomp you out like the roaches you are!"  _

_ Smoke filled the hall.  _

_ They had her.  _

⁂

The fire flickered, casting its shadows along the walls. Sans sat with his arm in a sling, tired eagerness the only thing keeping him awake. The battle between Asgore and the high council had left him drained and broken. Papyrus was sporting broken ribs and  _ Sans's _ arm had been snapped. Asriel would heal them, but he himself was still resting from an over taxation in healing Frisk. All of them had decided Frisk's health needed to be tended to first. 

An exhausted anxiousness coursed through him. Asgore now knew they were traitors. Maybe some part of him always knew, but now it was as certain as the day. He'd be after them. They'd have to leave their house. They'd have to disappear…

He chuckled at the idea that Frisk was definitely going to get what she wanted now. Now that their secret was out in the open, the only choice they had was joining Nick and his Angelicans. That is if they'd have them… 

He was about to pass out, but at any moment, she could wake up. 

He watched her,  _ Frisk,  _ as she slept. Or maybe she was dying. He knew that wasn't the case. Her soul was pulsing with dim red light and her chest was rising and falling with breath. She was  _ alive.  _ That was what mattered… and she was with him again. That alone was enough to set his mind at ease. 

His eye sockets drooped, almost forcing themselves closed. He shook himself several times before he finally succumbed to the heavy sleepiness that encompassed him. 

"Sans…" a soft, hoarse whisper. Barely even there, but it was enough to jolt Sans back to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly and met Frisk's gaze. She was staring at him with a faraway look. They held that gaze for a long time, and it was only until she broke into a sob that he realized tears had been welling in her eyes. 

"Frisk," he murmured. She reached for him and he pulled her into a tight embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder and he rocked her. He had been preparing himself for her hatred. An onslaught of retribution, which he would've accepted. 

But no, she just cried for a long time. And he held her. 

Finally, she drew away. There was a part of him that felt a small ounce of disappointment. She locked him in a gaze, something unknown glinting in her eyes. Those… big brown eyes that he was so utterly in love with. Those eyes that made him so utterly  _ weak.  _

"Frisk I—"

"—Don't… I don't want an apology…I already forgave you." Sans breathed a sigh of relief. God knows he didn't deserve that. Frisk frowned and shook her head at him. 

"I'm  _ not  _ done… I didn't forgive you to make  _ you  _ feel better. I forgave you so I could finally let go of the pain. I did it for  _ me.  _ Because… no matter how much I tried I couldn't bring myself to hate you, and I really wanted to. I wanted to hate you, I wanted to forget about you. It was tearing me apart. But…" she paused as she searched for her words, her eyes closing as glistening tears streamed down her cheeks. Sans watched and listened to her with a sorrowful glint in his eyes. She shook her head softly, almost as if in defeat. 

"I love you. My soul… it craves you. You… I don't know how or why, but you understand me in a way I've never been  _ understood  _ by anyone… and after what…" she choked up again as she forced herself to talk despite her exhaustion and the events of that horrid night. He almost shushed her. He wanted to let her go back to sleep, they could always continue their conversation when she was actually in the right mindset, but she wanted to finish. So he let her. He didn't interrupt her once, just sat in silence. 

"After what Muffet  _ did  _ to me…" she shook as a new wave of sobs flooded her. Sans reached for her and grabbed her hand. A soft whine of pain escaped her lips and she squeezed his hand. Their souls flickered. 

"I… I truly lost all my agency. I lost  _ myself.  _ I wasn't  _ me  _ anymore. I… I… all the progress I made… I lost it. I never want to feel that way again," she whimpered. He nodded slowly. 

"I'm not gonna make a promise… you probably wouldn't believe me if I did… but…Frisk… I want to make this right again. I want you to trust me, I… I want to be better for you. For so long I've been stuck in the past," he said. Frisk stared up at him. Her eyes were wide as tears streamed down her face, leaving red stains on her flawless skin. She let herself smile a soft, sad smile. 

"We were both stuck in the past," she whispered. He closed his eyes and held her hand tightly. 

"I was trying to save or… avenge a family I had already lost. I didn't see what was right in front of me. My family is right here," he said, squeezing her hand. Frisk's lip trembled at the implication. She wanted to believe it so bad. Maybe she did. She deserved that. 

"Sans…" she whispered. Sans ran a gentle hand through her hair. 

"Ask me what I want," he murmured. Frisk breathed a small, reluctant sigh and let herself smile. 

"What do you want?" She asked. An echo of all the times before. Her soul hummed. Sans gazed down at her. 

"I want to be with you. I want… to wake up next to you and I want to look at stars with you… and I want to make you laugh and smile… and… I want you to love me like I love you. I… I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone." Frisk's eyes welled up and she smiled a tired smile. It was beautiful, just like all the other times she smiled. There was a glimmer of joy that he wanted to look at forever. 

She looked up at him, and for a while she didn't say anything. They just gazed across at each other. Caught between the past and the future. Caught between their pain and their possible happiness. They just needed to cross. 

Sans felt his soul sink the longer she didn't say anything… and then… she kissed him. Just a soft, tired kiss. It spoke a thousand words. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He'd never let go of her again. He'd never let anyone take her from him  _ again.  _ Whether it be Muffet, or the king, or even his brother. He'd die before he let her slip away. 

He allowed himself, finally, to let go of the past. As if he had been struggling to hold a rope that pulled taut on his hands, a rope that strangled and threatened to drag him with it. He let it fall away, and the weight seemed to lift. His soul seemed to glow just a bit brighter. 

For the first time… Sans allowed himself to accept the fact he had a future. And his future's name was Frisk De La Noir. 

  
  


⁂

Asgore stood hunched over the railing of his balcony, and overlooked his city with a glint of malice in his eyes. His soul pulsed with seething hatred. Those  _ damned  _ reapers. He knew they would turn on him eventually. He  _ knew  _ they had been hiding a human from him, he had just  _ known it.  _ Moxie Valentine. The girl with the candle. 

He could smell trouble on the horizon. He could smell the fires of rebellion. His breath came steady and his soul sighed with exhaustion. He was getting old. The weight of decades dragged on his body. He was getting tired… he was tired of it all. Tired of the schemes and mutiny, tired of the empty ceremonies. Tired of the Underground. Soon it would all be over. Soon the dept to him would be paid in full. 

… _ But not if that girl gets in my way.  _

“Your majesty…" hummed an all too familiar voice. He gritted his teeth and slowly turned to face the woman. 

"Muffet… what do you want from me this time?" He growled. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her or her conspiracies he knew she had against him. 

“You lost the human.” Asgore snarled at the reminder and whipped around to face her. 

"I would kill you right here, right now… but fortunately for you, you have still proven useful to my regime. Never forget that, Muffet. You are only alive because you are  _ useful,"  _ he spat. Muffet narrowed her eyes at him, before she smiled graciously and bowed her head. 

“I am grateful my work is still valuable in your eyes… my Lord… there is still hope,” she uttered. He scowled and turned back to the city. Hope was for the weak. Asgore had lost hope decades ago. 

“The human may have escaped, but only because you underestimated her and cast me out of the room. If I had been there, I would've been able to control her. Oh well,  _ c'est la vie…  _ I am sure you won't make the same mistake again. I  _ will  _ track the human down and bring her to you on a silver platter… but in exchange… I want a portion of the royal guard to be under my control.” Asgore narrowed his eyes at the request. It was a bold demand. Giving her a part of the military, no matter how small, would most likely lead to a coup. 

“Do you think I'm stupid?" He murmured. Muffet hummed thoughtfully as she pondered the question. He bared his fangs and turned to her once more. 

“I have allowed you many liberties and freedoms where others have not. You and your crowd have been protected from the Purges. You and Mettaton are obsessed with conspiring and putting on elaborate demonstrations of power that I,  _ and I alone,  _ have even allowed you to gain. I am sick of it. From now on… I'm not waiting around for ceremony. I'm not waiting for cameras or public shows of power. It takes too much time. Time is my enemy. I have no more of it," he snarled. Muffet crossed her two front arms over her chest. 

"You want to punish them," she murmured. Asgore smirked softly and glanced back at her. 

"No, Muffet…  _ I want to crush them."  _

* * *

End of Part 3 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: AND THAT'S A WRAP ON PART 3!! Frisk and Sans are finally reunited after a bittersweet victory! Part 3 was extremely heavy and emotional, very dark. But sometimes, darkness is necessary to appreciate the light! And Part 4 will be filled with Light, that is a promise. 
> 
> Up Next: Part 4 and Asgore's tyrannical crackdown on Snowden. 
> 
> Also, as an update on my progress right now, I'm currently writing chapter 68. There will be a hiatus on this fic until I am completely finished and then I should start posting again. Follow my Tumblr at the_writing_mobster for more updates, content, and one shots. Love you guys! Fare thee well!


	61. Occupation

Chapter Sixty-one

Occupation

* * *

It was May twenty-first when Papyrus and Sans went missing. 

It was May twenty-fifth when the council took over and flooded Snowden with new trigger-happy soldiers hungry for action. 

Dorothy never believed this could happen… or maybe did but she had never wanted to believe it could. But Papyrus was gone. He had just disappeared. He and his brother. And now Snowden was on lockdown. 

She had never wanted to do this, but she had been given orders from the council. It was either this, or joining the ranks of the traitors and Dorothy was  _ not  _ a traitor. 

"Everyone on the ground!" She barked as soldiers flooded the hotel. Charlotte screamed and jumped up from her seat at the desk. The council member stalked in behind her, piercing red eyes flickering through the lobby. 

_ "Bring her to me…"  _ The whisper in her mind was blood-chilling and Dorothy's pupils dilated as she launched herself for the lapine, teeth bared. She slammed her against the wall and pulled her up. Charlotte cried out in terror as the council member took her from the white Lycan. 

Her eyes widened as that red gaze pierced into her soul. She trembled as her life was read memory by memory, until the council member dropped her and turned away. 

_ "Guilty…"  _ Dorothy growled and snatched Charlotte off the ground. 

"Please! Dorothy, don't do this! If this is because of Dakota and his affair with Sissy, that has nothing to do with me! You know my hotel is falling to shambles, I need all the business I can get!" She cried. Dorothy bared her teeth as her eyes welled up. She didn't need to be reminded of her failure as a wife, or her unfaithful husband for that matter. 

"It has nothing to do with that. You're under arrest for high treason." Charlotte's throat welled as panicked thoughts raced through her mind. What about her children!? Lola, Nigel, Archie!? 

"My children! They need me, Dorothy, don't do this!" Dorothy hesitated, her lips peeling back in a snarl. 

"Charlotte!?" Cried Alice as she raced down the stairs. Charlotte looked back at her as she was dragged out of her own hotel. 

"Take care of my kids! Please!" She screamed as tears poured down her face. They both knew this would happen. Alice's lip trembled as she watched the woman get cuffed and thrown to the ground outside.

The council member whirled around and locked eyes on her. She gasped as it lifted its finger at her. 

_ “Guilty…”  _ Alice stumbled back as the soldiers snarled and stepped towards her. She made a break for it, slamming the french doors closed and racing down the hall.  _ Shit, shit, SHIT!  _ The slew of curses raced through her mind as she opened the window at the end of the hall and jumped through. 

“There!” She choked and sprinted down the street. She dodged into a crack between two abandoned buildings and climbed into the crumbling wall. She could hear the heavy, metal footfalls of the soldiers surrounding the buildings. Her nostrils flared, eyes darting about trying to find somewhere to hide. 

“We know you’re in there bitch! Come out with your hands up or else we’ll burn this whole place to the ground!” snarled one of the soldiers from outside. Alice caught the handle of a trap door haphazardly hidden underneath a dusty persian carpet. She ripped the rug away and yanked the trap door up. It burst open with a cloud of dust and she choked, waving the clouds out of her face. The door banged and she slid inside, pulling the rug back over her as she closed the hatch. 

She collapsed into a soot filled basement piled high with old bookshelves and broken desks. She curled over herself as the weight of everything that had just happened finally sunk in. 

She knew this would happen when Frisk was inevitably found out.  _ Take care of my kids!  _ She didn't know if she could do that! At least not by herself.  _ Charlotte needs you… Frisk would do it without hesitation if the roles were reversed.  _ Alice's lips trembled and she picked herself back to her feet. She had to be strong. 

She could be strong. She clenched her jaw and wiped her eyes roughly. There was no time for self pity or fear. Not when those kids needed someone to keep them safe. She may have not known what was happening, but she couldn't just stand by and do nothing while Charlotte was ripped out of her own home. 

"Where are you Sans?" She whispered as she forced a door open, arriving in a back alley loading zone. They could really use the Gasters now… but Alice knew that after Frisk's rescue, they must've been exposed as traitors and the king had gone after them.  _ This hellhole is falling apart.  _

She climbed up the stairs and jogged through the cold alleyways as she made her way to the small school to pull Charlotte's kids out. 

She dodged through the alleys that she knew all too well in order to avoid the soldiers as they marched through the streets. The howls of Lezgiloth resounded through the air and her body shook in terror. 

"It's ok… it's going to be ok…" she croaked as she pressed her back against the side of a building and held her breath. Two soldiers marched past her, their red eyes flickering through the streets. 

"People of Snowden, make your way to the Town center to greet your new governor," boomed an unearthly voice. Alice flinched and held her hands to her ears as they rang and screamed at the sound.

Doors opened and confused and scared Snowden residents slowly streamed out, murmuring amongst themselves as they followed orders.  _ I’m a criminal now…  _ Alice clenched her jaw and raked a hand over her floppy ears.

Her heart thundered against her chest as she made it to the school. She had made it here before the soldiers… good. She needed to get out just as quickly. Children were gathering outside near their teachers, which were few and far between. In the chaos of the moment, she was able to grab Archie and pull him aside. 

His eyes went wide with shock as they hid behind a pillar. 

"Alice?" He whispered. She nodded and clenched her jaw as she watched the soldiers approach the small school. 

"Where are your brother and sister?" She asked. Archie glanced around before he sighed with a small hint of relief and gestured with his thumb. 

"They're both out with a fever." Alice nodded to herself. 

"What's going on?" He asked as Alice led him away. They could get in serious trouble if caught. She was risking everything by doing this now, but she had no other choice. 

"Your mother was arrested…" She choked up as she spoke of the events. Archie froze, his ears and nose twitching as he processed the horrid news. 

"No… that's a lie—" she shushed him and dragged him behind the wall of a house. Slowly she peaked out from behind the wall before sighing and turning back to him. 

"She told me to take care of you and your siblings until we sorted this all out. It's probably a misunderstanding." Archie shook his head, he wasn't stupid. He knew what his mother had been up to. 

"Don't treat me like I'm some kind of idiot. It's because of that woman, isn't it. Ms. Valentine, right? The… the  _ human,"  _ he whispered. She clenched her jaw, her ears drooping with defeat. 

"Yeah…" she murmured. Archie seethed through his teeth and balled his fists with newfound righteous fury. 

"He can't keep doing this to us," he spat. Alice knew exactly what he meant by that and she hung her head. He could, and he  _ would  _ until someone finally did something about it. She had hoped Sans and Papyrus would return victorious, Asgore finally slain, but… 

She shook it away and grabbed his hand, pulling him after her as they dodged through the streets. They just needed to make it to Charlotte's cottage, then lay low until this ended. 

"Hey! You're supposed to be at the Town square! Did you not hear the announcement?" Snarled a soldier as they tried to dart across the street. Alice froze, her blue eyes wide with terror. Her lip trembled as the soldier scanned his eyes over her. 

"Y-no… I um… I wasn't aware? There's a town meeting?" She asked, her voice quaking in his presence. The soldier scoffed and held his hand up to smack her. Archie darted in front and took the blow. Alice screamed, dragging Archie back to his feet and jolting back. 

"Hey leave them alone, asswipe!" Shouted a spunky voice. Alice's eyes lifted to see a familiar reptilian monster about Archie's age, his body void of arms. 

"MK?" Murmured Archie under his breath. 

"You've got some nerve!" The soldier snarled back as the kid charged, his leg pulling a switchblade knife out of his jacket. He rolled under the soldier's legs and sprung up into a roundhouse kick, knife slicing through the air and screaming against the metal of the soldier's armor. 

Alice stumbled back as the teenager battled the brutish monster. Archie shrugged her off and raced into the fight, throwing his fists against the unprotected parts in his armor. 

"Hey! We have to keep moving!" She grunted as she reached for him. Her fingers snagged his shirt and he gasped as she dragged him away. The soldier kicked MK away from him and Alice snatched him off the ground. 

"Hey! Get back here you bitch!" He snarled as Alice pushed the two boys into a sprint, following closely behind them as they ran from the royal guardsmen. 

"Run, run run! Don't stop!"

Finally, they reached Charlotte's cottage and Alice flung the door closed behind them. She crumbled to the floor as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding, her vision blurred with tears. She'd had no time to truly process what the hell was happening. 

"Mommy?" Croaked the voice of a little girl. Lola. Alice seized up and she jerked her head up to attention. 

"No, it's mom's employee, Alice. Mom was taken by the guard," murmured Archie, still not quite believing it himself. Lola shook, her lips peeling back as a cry erupted from her. Archie quickly jumped into action before Alice could and he hushed her. 

"I want Mommy!" She screamed. Archie nodded and rubbed her back. 

"Mom is ok, don't worry. She'll be fine… right Alice?" The sound of Lola's sobs filled the air, pressing Alice and filling her with bubbling anxiety. She didn't  _ know.  _ How could she possibly  _ know!?  _

Alice merely shook her head weakly and bit her lip. 

"I'll… I'll try to get help…" she whimpered. MK meandered through the living room. 

"I've been waiting for this since the moment that tiefling girl was taken in by the reapers. Always knew there was something off about her," he said. Alice shot him a look. 

"Frisk will… she's going to help. She has to. She's a good person," she whispered to herself. Doug had always said she was the Angel from the prophecy. Alice could only hope he had been right. 

⁂

  
  


It was worse than she thought. The high council member was appointed temporarily while the new Lieutenant, a Jackalope Lapine Monster, got accustomed to his new position. 

Soldiers made rounds through every street, conducting no-knock warrants on any home they felt was suspicious. Sometimes it was out of pure boredom. No one was safe. 

A curfew had been set and only people who had a Rune and an employee ID at the Ice Packers were allowed to even leave their houses. There was a small ounce of smug joy in Alice at the knowledge that Grillby wouldn't be able to stay open. 

It went on for days… and then the days turned into weeks. They had a system, and Archie was actually very good at taking care of his siblings. MK would get supplies and Alice acted as a proper authority. A stand in mother. She was just thankful no soldiers had barged in to arrest her.  _ Yet.  _

Alice had taken the risk and had ventured out to try and get in touch with Sans. She  _ had  _ to do something. The longer she waited around, the more of a chance there was that Charlotte would be executed.  _ The library must have some way to communicate. Maybe those owls—  _ As she rounded the bend, her eyes widened and she gasped at the sight. 

The library lions, Reggie and Leo and been smashed to smithereens and a hellish red flag with the delta rune emblazoned on it fluttered from the pillars. Soldiers loitered and drank on the stairs. No one was getting in or out. 

The total desecration of the one pride Snowden had bit deep in Alice's soul. Her lip trembled and she stumbled back against the wall. Alice peaked out once more and watched with bated breath as the doors were thrown open and wheel barrels filled to the brim of books were dumped out on the street. 

"No…" she breathed. Helpless. Powerless. All she could do was watch from the shadows as they dumped gasoline onto the piles of books.  _ No!  _

"Light 'em up!" Roared the new Lieutenant from atop the stairs. Her eyes went wide, her lips trembling with mortified horror as fire exploded and consumed the leather and paper. The fire popped and sparks flew into the air as smoke drifted on the wind.  _ In broad fucking daylight.  _ No cameras, no public show of power. No one was around to see it but her. Terror creeped into her soul as she realized what it truly meant. Asgore had finally gotten fed up with playing with his prey. 

Was no one going to stop them!? She guessed no one could. What the fuck could they even do? What the hell was Asgore doing?  _ Fear tactics. Control.  _ Snowden had always been a thorn in the king's side. 

In a way, the Brothers had protected them from the wrath of Asgore. With them out of his way he could wipe them out. Alice clenched her jaw as tears streamed from her eyes. 

She had to get out of Snowden. She couldn't leave Charlotte's kids though.  _ I could try and get to the brothers' house… shit, what the fuck am I supposed to do about this!?  _

Alice hesitantly turned her back on the destruction and crept away. She couldn't look at it any longer without feeling sick to her stomach. She balled her fists. They had to do  _ something.  _

It was spooky, the empty streets. She hadn't even found one of the beggars that would sit huddled in the alleys. She did find a lot of dust. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. She shuddered and hugged her arms close to her.  _ Why haven't they killed the prisoners yet? They seem perfectly content slaughtering homeless monsters and burning books and buildings. What the hell is the Capital planning?  _ Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good. 

"Hey—" Alice gasped as the voice whispered to her from the shadows and she shot back. The form jumped out into the light and cupped her mouth before she could even think about screaming. A blue bunny. A  _ familiar  _ blue bunny. 

" _ Shhhh— _ they'll hear us." Alice scowled and slapped his hand away from her. She didn't have to be told twice. She wasn't an  _ idiot.  _ A moment passed as they considered each other. 

"I know you…" he murmured. Alice rolled her eyes.  _ Every dickhead in Snowden knows me. Ever heard of Grillby's? Don't act innoce—  _

"You helped attack the casino with Sans and Papyrus. I knew I recognized you! This is perfect, we're on the same team," he whispered with a growing smile. Alice let herself relax. Now she knew where she recognized him from. 

"I'm Nick. I can't believe we weren't introduced." He held his hand out and Alice narrowed her eyes. They both glanced around their shoulders to look out for soldiers. 

"Alice… What are you doing out? There's a curfew," she murmured. Nick snickered quietly and led her through the back alleys. 

"The better question is, why are  _ you  _ out?" Alice pouted her lips, but before she could retort, the sound of boots ricocheted against the brick buildings and Nick pressed her against the wall, cupping her mouth and watching from the shadows as a pair of soldiers marched past. He watched them, Alice’s eyes wide as she watched  _ him _ . 

He glanced down at her once they’d passed and cleared his throat awkwardly as he backed away from her. Alice pursed her lips and hummed as she tried not to make eye contact. He nodded to her and gestured for her to follow him. 

The two quietly scurried across the street, the soldiers glancing back as their footsteps echoed throughout the tight cobblestone road. 

"Who's there?" Barked the soldier. Nick ushered her through the alley and helped her up a fire escape. He quickly followed and the two clambered up to the rooftop. Nick gestured for her to hide with him behind one of the many brick chimneys and the two waited with bated breath. 

"Probably nothing. Just leave it," grumbled the second soldier from the ground. Alice glanced across at Nick and he held his fingers up to his lips. 

"No… I know I heard something—"

"—Dorian, let's go!" The soldier barked. The other one growled and followed behind his comrade. The two marched on and Alice sighed with relief. 

Nick turned back to her and hummed in silent triumph. He must've been used to this. 

"I was trying to find a way to contact Sans," she admitted as Nick walked the perimeter of the rooftop. He nodded slowly. 

"Do you know where he is? We're supposed to meet up in Ghost Town to discuss what's going on here," he said. Alice's eyes flickered with hope and she jogged over to him as he observed a possible path of travel. 

"Oh, that's the best news I've heard all week! Charlotte and Bonnie were taken to Frostgate. So was the librarian and… they’re burning everything. I've been taking care of her kids, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so scared," she rambled. Nick glanced back at her with a flicker of concern growing in his eyes. He looked back down at the shingled roof of the building beside them. 

Alice gasped as he jumped and slid on the shingles, snow tumbling from his impact. He got a foothold and stood up, holding out his hand for her. 

"When the streets are this crawling with the king's minions, I prefer scaling rooftops. Anywhere you need to be?" He asked. Alice furrowed her brow and took a deep breath as she bounced back and readied herself to jump. 

Nick watched as she took a running start before leaping off the edge of the roof and colliding with the shingles, her hands snatching the point of the roof and holding her place. She smiled down at him and shook her tail with triumph. 

"I know the way," she said. He grinned at her and the two picked their way across the rooftops and ledges, awnings and wooden overhangs, trees and wires. Alice recalled her own childhood spent on her own. She used to race rooftops and climb trees all the time, back when she was a miniature rogue. She had lost it with age, when the only way to make a living in Snowden was selling herself to Grillby's. 

Alice found herself laughing with joy as her muscle memory kicked in. Her skills were rusty, but she could keep up with Nick. She impressed herself. 

Eventually they made it back to Charlotte's cottage and Alice knocked a melody on the door. It creaked open and Archie poked his head out. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Nick, but Alice nodded reassuringly. 

"I have a message to deliver to Frisk. Let me write it down. She needs to know what's going on," she said. Nick nodded curtly and stood back, hands in his pockets as he observed his surroundings. 

"Is Frisk going to save mommy?" Whimpered Lola from the couch. Alice frowned and pulled a piece of paper out and onto the counter. Nick glanced at the kid and squatted on his knees to get on her level. 

"Sweetheart, I'm not gonna sleep until you're back in your mommy's arms, and that's a promise. Cross my heart, hope to die," he said as he drew an "X" over his heart with his fingers. Lola hugged her teddy bear close and hid her hopeful smile. 

"Cross your heart?" She whispered. Nick held up his hand and poked his pinkie finger up. 

"I  _ pinkie  _ promise," he said. Alice glanced back and her eyes softened at the sight. They still had allies on their side. She knew deep in her soul that Nick was the best ally they could have in these dire times. 

He glanced back up at her and smiled sadly, and she returned the gesture, trying not to let him notice the tears welling in her eyes. 

_"Thank you,"_ she mouthed, and he gave her a gentle nod. A heavy moment of silence passed as they waited for Alice to finish writing the letter. She quickly folded it up and handed it off to Nick, who shoved it into his pocket. 

Now she could only hope and pray that the brothers would get the message. The king couldn't do this to them. Someone had to stand up and fight back. They all had to… 

"May the Angel be with you," he whispered. Alice nodded slowly and watched him leave. There wasn't going to be an angel to save them. If they wanted change they'd have to fight for it. A spark ignited in Alice's soul. A hope. A dream. 

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> Hello, hello, hello! It is good to be back! Quite the exciting we have chapter here! One, we love and respect Alice Lovett in this house. Two, THE RIDDLE LIONS! 😭 
> 
> Up next: Frisk and the Gasters meet up with Nick.


	62. Catharsis

Chapter Sixty-two: Catharsis

* * *

_ Frisk stretched her hands out as she stood at the edge of an ocean. The waves crashed against the beach as a storm blew in. Her body buffeted in the wind, her dress fluttering and flapping wildly against her.  _

_ Lightning forked across the sky and shot down into the roiling black waters. Thunder shook the earth and Frisk watched as stars collapsed from their seats in the sky.  _

_ Rain crashed like bullets against her, but she stood unaffected. Her fingers stretched out to the sky and she screamed into the vast storm. Lightning danced through the clouds until it seemed to spot her. With hungry sparks, it leaped down and struck her finger tips.  _

_ Light blinded her eyes and she squinted in the unbearable brightness. When the light dimmed, she found herself in a small vault. The lights flickered and faded to a dark red. The carpeted floor was crawling. Was it even carpet? Frisk didn't want to look down as small, hairy legs scurried across her skin.  _

_ She could hear the chittering of mandibles and small hisses of insects and she whimpered.  _

_ "Deeeaaarieee…" crooned a dark voice. Frisk tried to scream, until she realized her tongue had turned into a hairy  _ thing _. Legs slowly poked out of her gaping mouth and Frisk gagged as an enormous spider pulled itself out from her lips.  _

_ TV screens began to flicker on one by one, showing nothing but snow and loud static. She could hear a distant canned laughter and a shudder ran down her spine.  _

_ "I can't wait to break you…"  _

_ She gasped as she felt hands grab her body and she tried to stumble away. She could feel the crunch of spiders under her feet as other spiders scurried across her legs and toes.  _

_ "You're mine…" a woman's voice in her ear. Frisk  _ screamed at the top of her lungs  _ and flew back. Her eyes caught the twitching shadow hanging from the ceiling and she gave a  _ cry of distress. 

_ "Frisk…"  _ Frisk screamed as her hands struck out  _ at the twitching shadow.  _

"FRISK!" Frisk jolted awake, her arms thrashing against the dark form she thought had been attacking her. She screamed again and he fell back from her. 

She pressed herself against the headboard as she shook from utter shock and terror. Her eyes darted up to meet the concerned and scared eyes of Sans Gaster and her lips trembled. 

"I heard you scream from down the hall. I thought… is everything… ok?" Her breathing stilled at the rumble of his voice and she held her hands up to her face. 

"Nightmare…" she croaked, her voice cracking as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Sans clenched his jaw knowingly and reached up to turn on a light.

Her nightmares were getting worse, but this was the first night she had awoken screaming and fighting for what felt like her life. Frisk was exhausted. She felt like she was always walking on a teetering tightrope between life and death. Especially now, with Asgore hunting them like a hellhound after a soul. 

"Hey… it's ok, kid. Come here," he whispered. She crawled to her knees and he pulled her into his arms. She shook as he held her, the two sitting in silence for what felt like forever. 

Her breathing slowed as he ran his hand through her hair. Her soul flickered and she felt that familiar calmness steel over her as Sans hushed her. The craving she had for him, the need for him to be around. He had been giving her space as she readjusted to them once more, but she missed him. It didn't help that spending her nights alone was daunting and terrifying. 

"Do you want anything?" He asked. 

She bit her lip and looked up at him. His half-lidded eyes gazed tiredly down at her, brows furrowed. She had forgiven him, and he had confessed his love for her, and although they were on better terms, there was still an unspoken hesitation. He wasn't making any moves that might make her uncomfortable or push her too far. He was giving her time, but time was the  _ last  _ thing that she wanted. She wanted  _ him _ . 

"Can you stay with me tonight? They're getting worse and I don't want to be alone. Please stay," She whispered. Sans considered her before his skull's grin softened and he nodded. 

"Sure thing," he murmured. Frisk sighed with relief and laid back against her pillow. He hesitantly laid beside her, still unsure if she wanted his presence after everything they'd been through. She didn't protest and so he let himself relax. She turned into him and he wrapped an arm around her. 

They were staying in a makeshift safe house in Waterfall, the brothers had safehouses in multiple districts of the Underworld. Well, not so much the brothers. Sans hadn't told her, but she gathered it had once belonged to their father.

As she laid in his arms, a wave of warmth washed over her and she sighed into him. She had craved him so much. She had  _ missed  _ him terribly. She had yearned for the way her soul breathed freely when she was near him. She didn't fully understand it, and there was still a deep apprehension inside of her… but she couldn't deny their connection. She wouldn't. 

"It was storming and I was standing on the edge of a beach. Then the lightning struck my fingers and… then I was in this room filled with…  _ spiders.  _ I don't know what it is about the Underground, but my dreams are always so vivid and real," she whispered against his chest, her throat tightening as her trauma from Muffet stared her right in the eyes.

He brushed her bangs out of her face and gazed at her as he considered her dream. 

"So are mine. Our minds can be so fuckin rude, sometimes." Frisk giggled quietly before another somber silence fell over them. 

Silent tears slid down her cheeks and he held her closer. She melted into his arms. The one place in this hell she felt untouchable.

"What are we going to do?' she asked as she toyed with his shirt. He rested his chin on her head and hummed in thought. 

"What exactly are you talkin' about?" Frisk shrugged and ran her thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly. An icy dread pooled at the bottom of her stomach and made her sick. 

"About everything. Asgore…the Royal Guard, Mettaton,  _ Muffet…  _ I feel like we've abandoned the Snowden people—"

"—You've been healing, Frisk. We've been lickin' our wounds and trying to get back on our feet." Frisk sighed. She was frustrated and scared. She was terrified of every hour that ticked by. She felt so useless. Her broken ribs and shoulder, her internal bleeding, the effects of Muffet's spell, the damage to her done by Muffet's customers… she'd been healing from it all, but she'd been so…  _ useless. _

__ She wanted to fight. She wanted to join the Angelicans, but she couldn't do  _ anything _ . All she seemed to do was lay down for days on end in, suffering from nightmares, shaking with lapses and waves of addiction she dared not feed, lapses of depression she couldn't withstand. 

All they were doing was hiding from Asgore. Thank God they had Undyne feeding them information. 

"I'm just so scared. I don't want to… I can't go back to that. I can't let Asgore hurt you or these people anymore and I'm so…  _ I'm so useless.  _ I'm always in some kind of trouble." Sans grimaced at her words. 

"Hey… that's a big fuckin' lie. You're the furthest thing from useless. You know how many people rallied behind you that day?" Frisk felt her eyes well up and she turned away from him. 

"Exactly, and now Snowden is being put on lockdown and flooded with legions of soldiers.  _ And I haven't done anything to stop it.  _ I promised I would never run away again, _ "  _ she seethed. Sans sighed and brushed a tear off her cheek. 

"There's a difference between running off and living to fight another day. What are you supposed to do with two broken ribs?" Frisk gritted her teeth as her throat swelled. 

"I'm… I'm done healing. I don't want to wait around for Asgore to raid us. I want to be proactive." Sans nodded with understanding and he yawned as exhaustion overtook him. 

"I know you do… and I'm right behind you. I just… want you to be safe and I— well I don't want to lose you again." Frisk frowned, her eyes blurring with new tears. 

"You won't. And I'll be safe as long as I have you on my side," she whispered sleepily. Sans cupped her face with the palm of his large hand and she closed her eyes. 

"I'll always be on your side, and that's a Goddamn promise that no one, not even Papyrus, will make me break," he murmured. Her cheeks flushed and she shifted closer to him, her arms wrapping around his neck. 

"Then I'll always be safe…" she whispered. He gazed down at her, and swallowed as he felt his soul flutter at her words. She always knew just what to say to cut into his marrow.  _ God, I would die for you…  _

"...You know… I never forgot how beautiful you were, but everyday I look at you I'm still in awe," he murmured into her hair. Frisk shivered and smiled sleepily at his compliment. She knew he was trying to distract her, but she welcomed it. She needed something to keep her mind off of her impending terror and anger at herself. 

"Oh?" She murmured. He hummed, his eyes narrowing with a calculating gaze that sent tremors down her spine. 

"I could look at your eyes forever…" She bit her lip to stifle the onslaught of tears threatening to spill.

For so long she had gone without love, and there was something so addicting about it. About him. She pulled herself to him and kissed him. His fingers tightened in her hair and she let out a heavy breath. 

"Tell me you love me," she whispered as they pulled apart. Sans grinned softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He pressed his teeth against her forehead in a gentle kiss that made her soul hum with content. 

"I love you." She smiled as tears glistened in her eyes. They embraced and her body shook as she silently wept. 

"Never let go of me." 

"I won't." 

  
  


⁂

They were meeting Nick. It was the first time they would be making plans to strike. They were all tired of waiting. Frisk was silently grateful. She didn't know if she could go one more day sitting on her ass while Asgore crushed Snowden under the heel of his boot. 

She paced impatiently up and down the corridor, Asriel perched on her shoulder and the locket containing Chara's soul hanging from her neck. This safehouse was an underground bunker. It was completely bare except for the sparse, utilitarian furniture such as beds, tables and chairs cluttered about. There were a lot of locked rooms, which Frisk had grown accustomed to. 

When they had first escaped the farmhouse, Papyrus had been beside himself with anxiety and grief at the realization he'd have to get rid of his basilisks and Calibri. 

She glanced at Papyrus, who was checking his watch, an irritable scowl on his face. They were waiting on Sans to bring Nick in. 

“Hey… how have you been holding up?" She asked quietly. Papyrus glanced up at her and his scowl melted into a soft frown. 

"To be frank, I've been wrought with disparity. Running from Asgore is… humiliating," he grumbled. She understood how he felt. For ages he and Sans had been playing the long game to usurp the tyrant on that throne. She felt a twinge of guilt at the reminder that she was both the last piece to the puzzle, and the wrecking ball that had caused it all to crumble beneath them. Now they were all camping out in bunkers and vaults. 

"I get how you feel. I feel like this is all my fault," she whispered as tears pricked her lashes. Asriel gasped and Papyrus's sockets widened. They both shook their heads fervently. 

"That's a big fat lie" cried Asriel in protest. Papyrus nodded in agreement and Frisk blushed. 

"You silence that kind of self deprecating talk this instant," he barked. She hid a smile and nodded slowly at his demand. He was right. Her soul glinted with a warm love for the skeleton and flower. Despite everything, she had been right about Papyrus. He was full of great potential for good, and finally he was putting it into motion. 

She recalled long ago when she had accused them of perpetuating Asgore's violence. No more. They had finally liberated themselves. Frisk found herself becoming ever more appreciative of the bunkers. Finally they were completely free, no longer chained to the Kill or be Killed society the king had forged. 

The vault door cranked open and Sans and Nick climbed down, each dropping to the concrete ground below. Sans's eye flared with red fire and, with a flick of his wrist, he closed the hatchet and locked it. 

"It's about time. I was worried you two had been snatched by the guard. Next time try to be a bit more punctual," snapped Papyrus with a disapproving wag of his finger. Sans rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall as he picked his teeth with his pinkie. 

"Don't get your panties in a wad, boss," he grumbled. Asriel stifled a snort and Papyrus rolled his eyes. Frisk merely shook it off and went to stand beside her partner. As Sans reached to put an arm around her shoulder, Asriel rose and gave him a smug grin. Sans narrowed his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets with a disgruntled scowl. 

They made their way into a side room and took their seats at a small table. Nick sighed into the palms of his hands and dug a piece of paper out of his jean pockets. 

"Snowden is in pretty bad shape. They burned the library books… was it two days ago?" Frisk gasped, her eyes welling at the shocking news. 

"No… what about Reggie and Leo?" Asked Asriel. Frisk was torn between wanting to know and ignoring the harsh reality. Those poor gargoyles. She already knew the answer as soon as she glanced into Nick's eyes. Dead. Nick silently nodded to her and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. 

"Alice wanted me to give this to you," murmured Nick. Frisk reached for it and held the wrinkled paper in her trembling hands. Alice had written to her, that couldn't be good. She was afraid of opening it but a shared look with Asriel was enough to put her apprehensions to rest. 

Slowly, she unfolded the letter and propped her chin on her fist as her eyes scanned the writing. 

_ —Frisk _ , 

_ I don't know where you are, or how you've been holding up but I know you wouldn't just stand idly by while this happens. Charlotte, Bonnie and many others who stood in support of you, were arrested. I don't know how long they've got left before Asgore sentences them to the gallows.  _

_ I'm scared. The royal guard has been doing everything extremely secretively and it's just not like them. I fear the worst.  _

_ Please. I know you'd do everything to help them. They need you. We all need you.  _

_ —Alice Lovett _

__

Frisk clenched her jaw and hid her face in her hands as she tried to blink back the tears threatening to spill. Sans gently pried the letter out of her grip. He skimmed over it and grunted. 

"Can you tell us more about the conditions?" He asked. Nick nodded and leaned back in his chair. Frisk listened absentmindedly as he went over the curfews and impossible standards the residents had been forced to uphold. 

_ "It's not like Asgore at all. He's all about public displays of dominance. Unless he's finally gotten fed up with it all. He's planning something, I just know it,"  _ whispered Chara. Frisk nodded solemnly. From the public executions to the Purge's, to the arena and the fact he hadn't killed her immediately… It did seem awfully out of character. However, she knew Chara was right. The king  _ was _ planning something terrible and she still didn't know what it was. She had never known. 

"The library was the one beacon of hope and knowledge in Snowden. My pride and joy…" Murmured Papyrus. Frisk glanced curiously at him but he offered no answer. 

"Of course they'd dismantle it the moment I was out of the picture," he growled. Frisk let out a disheartened sigh. Her brow knitted together as her soul pulsed with a burning passion. This was the last straw. They  _ had  _ to help Charlotte. She'd rather die than let Charlotte and Bonnie suffer because of her.  _ No, this isn't me. They're suffering because of Asgore. We have to be the thorn in his flesh. He can't do this and expect me to stay quiet and hidden.  _

"Then we attack Frostgate. They take our library we take his fucking prison," she barked. Sans and Papyrus shot her a surprised look, but Sans's grin grew wider and a flicker of admiration glinted in his sockets. 

They shared a look and Nick smirked. 

"Now you're talking like a real Angelican. Direct action! I like it. When?" He asked. Frisk nodded slowly as Asriel pursed his seedy lips. He looked concerned, but she knew he'd be down for any plan she came up with. 

"As soon as possible. Alice said so herself. We might already be too late. We have to do this now. How many people will we need, Papyrus?" She asked. Papyrus considered the question and hummed thoughtfully. He shared a look with his brother and a spark of understanding passed between them. 

"With Sans and I… Nick, Doug and Alex… Frisk and Asriel… I think we'd have enough to storm the west wing of the prison. We'd need some kind of distraction. A riot perhaps. We can seize the west tower and the panopticon. I have a plan. Sans, you and I will be on one team. We'll break the outer and inner wall. Doug will be your cover and Alex will be mine. Nick, Frisk, and Asriel will infiltrate once the riot starts and take Charlotte, Bonnie and the rest of the innocent ‘war criminals’ out. Then we will meet at a centralized location and Sans and I will teleport us all back here," he plotted. Frisk glanced at Sans and watched as the hesitation flickered on his face at the mention of Frisk. Before he could say anything, she jumped up and smiled. 

"Perfect! We just need Doug and Alex to be filled in. Any word on where they've been?" She asked. Sans clenched his jaw and sat back. Papyrus nodded and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

"They've been staying in our Hotland safehouse. Helping where they can and keeping eyes on Muffet's associates." Frisk winced and crossed her arms at the mention of Muffet. Slowly, she lowered back into her seat and pursed her lips. 

"I can get the message to them tonight. Nick, the warden may have changed the locks and pins. Bring explosives," ordered Papyrus. Nick nodded curtly and grinned. 

"Murdering isn't the Angelican way…but property damage? That's another topic entirely," he said with a cheeky wink. Sans gave an arid, half-hearted laugh, sparing a side glance at Frisk as worry filled his gaze. 

The meeting was brought to a close after discussing finer details. Nick would gather supplies and Papyrus would drop him off somewhere discreet so no one would see them enter or exit. The bunker was only accessible via teleportation, being built by and for a reaper. It was why it hadn't been destroyed yet. 

She made her way back to her room, a determined gleam in her eye. She and Chara would practice meditating and hopefully learn a spell for explosive magic. She knew some spells already, and she could already feel the tingling of yellow energy in her fingertips the more she thought about it. 

Asriel climbed off her shoulder and she set him down on the sparse white desk. As she was about to make herself comfortable on the floor the door creaked open and a shadow fell over her. Her breathing stilled as she waited for Sans to say something. She had seen the look of protest on his face during the meeting when her role in the plan was brought up. 

She pursed her lips and tried not to let herself get angry. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind.  _ I can handle this, why is he getting upset? Does he not want me to go? Does he think I'm weak?  _

"Are you sure about this?" Murmured Sans softly as he leaned against the doorframe. At first, Frisk didn't want to answer him. She narrowed her eyes, her face turned to the wall and away from him. Did he not trust her? What was he trying to do? He was  _ not  _ going to stand in her way of doing what was right. Surely he wouldn't… Would he? 

"Are you scared? You know I'll be fine, right?" She snapped. Sans grimaced and looked down at his feet. She glanced back at him, an irritated look on her face.  _ Is he trying to make up for his mistakes by being overly protective?  _ She caught the thought and frowned with disappointment at herself. She had forgiven him… she wasn't going to bring it up. Even if it did take time to heal wounds and rebuild trust. It wouldn't make it better if she played that card on him. 

"No. I don't, if I'm being honest. It's easy for Papyrus and I to do shit like this. We can be in and out before anyone can even bat an eye, but you? One, everyone is looking for you. Two? You… You'll be with Nick and he can't teleport—listen… what I'm trying to say is… what if you get caught and I'm not there to protect you?" He came to stand behind her and Frisk's hard scowl softened as she listened. 

Asriel watched on, not exactly wanting to butt in with his opinion. He knew for the most part when Frisk and Sans were around each other, it was like they were in their own world. Who was he to wedge himself in it? 

Frisk sighed and raked a hand through her hair. Hearing him now, she realized he had a point. She was Asgore's number one most wanted now. Without the brothers' powers, there was a very good chance she would be captured again. However, she wasn't a fragile flower. She could handle herself. Especially now that she was unlocking her soul's powers. What human could say they had the power to stop  _ time _ if they were skilled enough? She had to have faith in herself… and on that note, so did Sans. He  _ had  _ to trust in her. 

"Ok, I understand where you're coming from… but I know I can do this. I escaped the castle by myself. I fought guards and burned my way through a water pipe… I survived Muffet and… I've resisted  _ your  _ magic-" Sans winced at the reminder. 

"-I  _ can _ do this. And… you know, I wouldn't have been able to escape Asgore if you hadn't been there… and you're  _ going  _ to be there. I'm not going to be alone. I have you, and you… you trust me, right?" Sans let out a taut breath as she spoke and she stood up to face him on more equal grounds. 

"Of course I trust you. It's not about that. It's about… I  _ can't _ lose you again," he growled as he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at him with wide eyes and she shook her head. 

"You won't. It's not going to be like last time. I'm powerful, Sans. You're powerful. We're two forces of nature and we're on the same team. I will be ok. I'm going to do it," she said with a firm and conclusive nod. He eyed her warily as he processed everything. He knew she was right, and yet… He also knew just how fragile she was. She was a human in a monster's world. 

She grabbed his hand and held it to her chest. He could feel the rhythmic beat of her heart and he shot her a curious look. 

"I have Determination. It's more than just a boost. I can do unimaginable things if I just put my mind to it," she whispered as she leaned against him. His grin softened and he raised his hand to her chin. He ran his thumb over her lips. 

"So… we're doing this…" She nodded and he let out a sigh and nodded slowly to himself as he came to accept it. Frisk smiled and he ran a hand through her hair. 

"Ok. Promise me you'll be safe," he growled. She bit her lip and held his hand to her cheek. A breath of relief exploded off her lips. 

"I'll be safe. I promise." He leaned down and kissed her and she embraced him. 

"Ok hold on, I'm still in the room!" Groaned Asriel. Frisk blushed and shot an apologetic look at her closest friend and ally. Sans glowered at the flower. 

"Way to ruin the mood, Miss Daisy. Fuckin' cock block, I swear," he grumbled. Frisk giggled as Asriel rolled his eyes. 

"It's called getting a room—"

"—this is our room though—"

"—You know what I meant—"

"—Guys let's not get into it, it's ok," said Frisk as the two of them went at it. Sans leaned back and grinned his usual shit-eating grin that only spelled bad news and awful puns. 

"You know what,  _ flower boy—" _

"—wow, very clever—" 

"—YOU can just make like a plant and  _ leave."  _ Frisk snorted with laughter at the stupid pun as Asriel shook his head and tried not to join in on the snickering. 

"How long did it take for you to come up with that one?" He retorted. Sans squinted at him and held a hand up to his non-existent ears. 

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of you photosynthesising," he quipped. Asriel barked with wry laughter and Frisk doubled over as her ribs racked. She couldn't catch her breath! 

"I'm honestly surprised you even know what that means, did you have to break out the dictionary?" Frisk threw her head back and stumbled against the bed. Sans chuckled and shook his head with dumbfounded amusement. 

"You laugh now, but little do you know that dictionaries are the perfect size and volume for pressing flowers. I think I just found myself a new hobby," Sans sneered. Asriel paled and glanced at Frisk as her laughter turned to silent whines and gasps for air. 

"Frisk, your boyfriend is threatening my life," called Asriel. 

"Sans!" She gasped. Sans laughed and lumbered towards Asriel. 

"Don't drag her into this. This is between you and me pal," he teased. Asriel reared back, a challenging grin on his seed-filled face. 

"Bring it on—"

"—Stop! Stop!" Gasped Frisk as she held her hands up to her face. 

_ "You need to meditate soon,"  _ reminded Chara with a small, knowing snicker. Frisk blushed at the reminder that not only was Asriel there to witness her intimacy with Sans, but also Chara. She'd probably have to be more careful about that. 

Sans and Asriel chuckled and nodded to each other. Sans climbed into the bed as Asriel sighed and glanced away. 

"Who needs a kid when you got a talking dandelion to wedge himself between ya," he grumbled into her neck. She rolled her eyes playfully and batted his head away. 

"Oh you two be nice. I need to meditate," she said matter of factly. The two guys quieted down and spared each other friendly grins. No hard feelings. 

They watched as Frisk rolled off the bed and repositioned herself on the floor. Sans smiled and stood up. 

"Ok  _ Ass- _ riel. I guess it's just you and me. Let's go get a snack," he said. Asriel groaned at the nickname. As they left, Sans leaned down and kissed the top of her head. A warmth flickered in her soul and she smiled softly. This was all she had ever wanted… 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A plan has been formulated and Frisk commands herself quite well whether it be out of newfound leadership it crushing guilt. Maybe both. 
> 
> Up Next: Trouble at Frostgate.


	63. Prisoner of War

**A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome back for today's chapter. I have a teeny tiny announcement.**

**I have a WDYW series specifically for aus, what ifs and one-shots. My one shot collection is updated irregularly and is contributed to by you readers. If you have ideas for one-shots, you can ask in the comment section[THE WORK](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045532/chapters/71292036) or on my [Tumblr](http://the-writing-mobster.tumblr.com). **

**I also want to announce that I'm working on two aus based on the WDYW characters. One is a Mafia AU, and the other is a Pirate AU. If you want more information, I have info on my Tumblr or you can ask me about them in the comment section.**

**Alright, that's all!**

**Please enjoy Chapter 63~**

* * *

Chapter Sixty-three: Prisoner of War

* * *

  
  


It was cold. Charlotte’s ragged breaths came out in clouds of white as she sat shivering in her cramped, grey cell. The only things keeping her warm was the fur on her back and the worn knitted blanket wrapped tightly around her body. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably. 

The first few weeks she had been there, her mind had raced with troubled thoughts.  _ Where are my kids? Where is my sister? Why is this happening to me? Why haven’t they done anything to me yet? Did Alice follow through on my request? Where is Frisk? Where are the brothers? Am I going to die here?  _ The thoughts had cycled over and over, having only grown more frantic. 

But now? Numbness had settled over her. The way of Frostgate. The only thing anyone could focus on here was not dying of hypothermia. The slot of her prison cell opened and her tired eyes trailed up to meet the face of one of the guards. 

“Eat up, Snowden scum,” he snarled as another slot in the door opened. Her ears perked up as the guard tossed a loaf of bread and slice of cheese onto the dust covered ground. 

She crawled forward and snatched it up into her hands. He laughed slowly and she glanced up at him with fearful eyes. He was still there. 

"That doesn't look like a very warm blanket. Maybe we could make some kind of arrangement?" He suggested with a glint in his eyes. Charlotte's grip on her blanket tightened and she bared her teeth. She would not allow this prison to take away her dignity. 

"I'd rather freeze to death, mother fucker," she spat. Not the language she would've used around her children… But she wasn't _ with _ her children. He narrowed his eyes, but the slot closed and he turned away. Charlotte's lip trembled and she huddled herself into a corner as she scraped the mold off her meager block of cheese. 

She could feel the last bit of warmth in her slip away as her soul dimmed. Her eyes filled with tears and she could feel them begin to freeze over. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her hands over her face as she breathed out deep breaths. Not even her breath was warm enough to thaw her hands. 

As she shivered, she felt her hope flicker like a dying candle. Her children… She couldn't forget her children. She couldn't forget Lola, or her pink tutus and zealous love of beauty and dance. She couldn't forget Nigel or his enthusiasm and jokes, or the way he dreamed of one day being a pilot. Archie and his stoic support and strength. She had to remember them. Even through the bitter cold, abuse and depravity. She had to believe they were safe. 

Charlotte closed her eyes as she pictured the faces of her babies. The thought of them was the only thing keeping her going. Softly, she began to hum a lullaby to herself. A lullaby she used to sing to them every night if she could help herself. 

_ "In the dreary dark of night _

_ As the last of the moon's light  _

_ Slips away o'er mountain sides  _

_ The reaper comes tonight  _

_ He's going to claim thine mortal soul _

_ Drag it down to caverns old  _

_ Where the black fires bellow  _

_ The reaper takes thine soul _

_ And from thy eyes thine light will seep _

_ As thou return to thy sleep _

_ Ever eternal will thou keep  _

_ When thine soul he doth hath reap _

_ Remember tales I've told  _

_ Ever as thou grow old  _

_ When the reaper comes so bold  _

_ Remember what I told…"  _

The soft song soothed the storm in her mind and she let out a gentle breath. 

“That was a lovely song,  _ tralala _ ...” croaked a voice. Charlotte glanced up, her eyes wide with panic at the sound. Was someone in her room? She glanced at the wall she was leaning on and noticed the small crack in the stone. Her lips flickered into a soft smile and she caressed the sharp rock wall. 

“I sang it to my little ones," she whispered, trying with all her might not to let the prisoner on the other side from hearing the distress in her voice. 

"...Little ones?" Charlotte paused as her throat swelled with sorrow. 

"Yes. Three," she said. The man sighed with sad delight at the knowledge. 

"Children are gifts to the world. Their light and innocence… it is truly the last window we have into true freedom and joy,  _ tralala _ " he murmured. Charlotte nodded along as a tear rolled down her cheek. 

"My children were," she croaked before swallowing and continuing with her thought, "beautiful and now I'm here. I don't know what happened to them. I'm stuck in here and—" she cut herself off and gave a long sigh of defeat. The man hummed to himself in thought. 

"Awful… pure awful. I'm just holding out that the Angel will save us before the Purge,  _ tralala _ " he murmured. Charlotte frowned at the mention of the Angel. 

"You actually believe that?" She huffed. The man chuckled. 

"I don't see the hurt in believing in something if it gives one a reason to go on.  _ Tralala... _ What do you believe in?" He asked. Charlotte shrugged hopelessly and rubbed her arms. 

"I… I don't know. I guess I believe in my family. My community," she said. He was silent for a while and Charlotte almost believed that maybe he had died on her. 

"Must be nice," he whispered after a long, freezing moment. 

"What do you mean?" She asked. He sighed softly and another icy silence passed. 

"Having a community. I was alone." Charlotte's heart sank at the reminder that the homeless population of Snowden had been kicked to the curb. She hadn't treated them any better. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. The Hope of the Angel was truly all he'd had. Of course he'd turn to a prophecy. He hummed in response and she could hear him shifting on the gravel floor. 

"You were forgiven long ago, for I hold no grudges,  _ tralala _ … may I hear another lullaby?" He requested. His words seemed to fill her soul with warmth and it glistened like a diamond in the dim light. 

Gently, she sang a lullaby of softer sentiment than the one before. This one of hope and the promise of sunlight. They needed the promise of sunlight. They needed hope. 

_ “Angel flying high above  _

_ Grace us with thy heavenly light _

_ Sun caress thy chin mine love _

_ And the breeze shall brush against thy cheek  _

_ A hero in the least of these _

_ A hero who can fight for me _

_ A hero who can set us free _

_ Free from the Darkness _

_ Free from despair _

_ Set us free to breathe fresh air _

_ Angel flying high above _

_ Grace us with the stars so bright  _

_ To hold thine hand on mountain peak _

_ Is what I wish with all mine might  _

_ A hero in the least of these _

_ A hero who can fight for me _

_ A hero who can set us free _

_ Free from the darkness _

_ Free from despair _

_ Set us free to breathe fresh air _

_ Free from the darkness _

_ Free from despair _

_ Set us free to breathe fresh air  _

_ And I will see thee come sunrise _

_ I will see thee live thine life  _

_ Oh sweet child live thine life  _

_ Free from the darkness  _

_ Free from despair _

_ I'll see thee fin'lly breathe fresh air _

⁂

A soft, red glow filled the room, radiating from the woman in its center. Frisk had been getting better at summoning the Determination hidden in the depths of her soul. She let out a deep breath.

_ “Can we talk about Asriel?”  _ asked Chara after a long moment. Frisk shuddered as the temperature dropped. She knew this question would be coming. She hadn’t known how exactly to approach it, so she hadn’t approached it at all. She was stung with guilt. More guilt to add on to the pile. 

“Of course… would you want to meet him?” she asked. Chara was silent for a while and Frisk hoped she hadn’t hurt her feelings. 

_ “I don’t know… part of me wants to. The other part is scared. It was my fault he died. It’s my fault he’s a… a flower. How did that even happen?”  _ Frisk shrugged. Asriel had never told her how he had come to be Flowey the Flower, and she had never asked. She had always just assumed it was a touchy topic. 

“I think that’ll be something you’d have to ask him… I could get him now if you’d like,” she whispered. Asriel was sitting soundly in her temporary room looking through his mother’s old spell book. Chara didn’t answer and they lapsed into another icy silence. 

_ “There is something dark in this place.”  _ whispered Chara as they meditated. So she was going to change the subject. That was ok. She was content to wait on her friends as long as they needed. Frisk's face screwed up in concentration.  _ How do you mean?  _ She asked inwardly. Chara sighed. 

_ “I can't put my finger on it. It's like shadows weaving in and out of the material world. Something very abstract and not quite tangible. Whatever it is though… it's malicious.”  _ The words did nothing to comfort Frisk and a shiver crawled down her spine. The red light reached into the shadows.  __

_ “Look at me…”  _ That wasn't Chara's voice. Frisk's eyes snapped open. A shadow stood in the midst of her red light, it's eyes and chest glowing a burning red. A strangled scream escaped her as it charged forward, shadowy hand outstretched to take her. 

Frisk bolted up, as something hit her lap. There was nothing. Well… there was  _ something. _ She looked down to see a kevlar vest sitting on her legs. With frantic eyes she looked up to see Sans staring down at her expectantly.

“Sans?” she asked, her voice shaking. He helped her up and Frisk hesitantly slipped into the vest. 

“What's going on?” she asked. He grunted and gently brushed her hands away as he zipped her up. 

“If you're going to be a part of this prison break, I need to make sure you're ready for tomorrow,” he said firmly. As she was about to protest, he shot her a stern look that almost reminded her of the way her father would look at her after scolding her.  _ Must've come with raising someone, _ she thought as she reminded herself that Sans had been taking care of Papyrus for a long, long time. She was his family now, and that meant  _ stern paternal looks.  _

“Why the vest?” she asked as he led her through the dark, titanium corridors. Fluorescent lights flickered on and off as they passed. There was an eeriness about it. Frisk drew closer to him as a chill swept the hall. 

“I don't like this place… _ c'est tellement effrayant,”  _ she whispered. Sans chuckled wryly and nodded with a knowing glint in his sockets. 

“I haven't been here in a long time… and it's definitely not aged well since,” he grumbled as he led her into a large cavern. Frisk glanced up, her breath escaping her at the sight of the millions of glow worms hanging from the ceiling and a large body of dark water below the outcrop of rock. 

Sans turned to her and nodded. 

“Try to hit me. Tag the side of my neck, hit the back of my head or the center of my sternum. Fists first, we'll refrain from using magic…  _ for now,”  _ he ordered as he held up his hands. Frisk quirked a brow and pursed her lips. She situated her body and held up her hands to block her face like she had learned long ago when she had taken up kick boxing. 

“I know how to fight,” she said as she advanced on him. Sans smirked and nodded. 

“I know,” he said with a cheeky wink. She hummed and struck her hand out to tag his chest. He batted her arm away and wove to the side with no effort at all. She grinned and feigned a punch to his right, her other fist going for a hidden uppercut. He blocked the upper cut and moved his head away from her fake out. 

Her feet danced around him and she threw a punch for his nose, knowing he'd dodge it with ease. As he swerved out of the way she ducked under him so she could possibly slap the back of his skull. As she moved, his hand swung down and slapped her ass, a cheeky laugh bursting from him as he hustled away from her. 

She blushed and rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Dear God.” He cackled and held up his hands. 

“I can dodge raindrops if I wanted to. You're gonna have to be a bit craftier if you want to win,” he teased. She held up her hands again, her soul glinting with newfound determination to beat him at his game. 

“Let me add a rule,” she said as they circled each other like penned tigers. His fanged grin widened and he bowed his head, gesturing for her to continue. 

“A‘ight, name your terms.” She smirked and glanced at his footwork. For such a stout monster like him, he was quite nimble. Maybe it was the fact he was made of bones and magic. 

“We get to use magic  _ once  _ as an aid,” she said. He grinned and nodded his satisfaction. 

“Sounds fair. A Determined One and a Reaper. Let's see how this plays out.” She chuckled and skirted towards him. Determined One? Is that what they called people like her? 

She jabbed her hands at him, and he slapped them away. Her body twisted and she threw her leg up to kick him in the chest. Sans leaned away with a laugh and slapped her ass again. 

“I swear to God,” she breathed. He laughed again and shuffled away from her. 

“It's too easy,” he quipped and she rolled her eyes. 

“I'm starting to think this is just an excuse to spank me,” she said with a mock annoyed sigh. He watched with a growing, wolfish grin as she put her hair into a high ponytail. It had definitely become long enough to do so. 

“Maybe…” He winked at her and the two got back into positions. 

Frisk furrowed her brow with concentration as she threw a series of jabs; trying her best to get past his defenses. Her boot crashed down to break his block, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her off her feet. 

She let out a squeak of alarm as she went down— His eye flared and he caught her mid air, her soul pouring with freezing ice as it glowed blue. They huffed as they gazed at each other. She hummed as he set her back up. 

“Does that count as my one usage of magic?” asked Sans as they wheeled around each other. She grinned and nodded her head. 

_ “Use Stairway to Heaven! It's the magic of integrity, which allows you to rise above adversity. He won't be expecting it,”  _ said Chara. Frisk's eyes widened. How would she do that? Chara read the question before it could leave her subconscious. 

_ “Focus on a time when no one was around, a time when you did something good, not expecting praise. Focus on that emotion and repeat after me,”  _ she said. Frisk nodded slowly. In her mind as clear as day she pictured the people of the Underground. She pictured a candle being blown out. The flicker of a trash can fire, and the face of Charlotte. Her soul burned in her chest as she called her magic to her. 

_ Staighre go neamh. _

_ níos airde dreapaim _

_ Scaip mé mo mhéara chun teagmháil a dhéanamh leis an spéir _

_ agus ardú os cionn an chlaíomh agus na cloiche _

Frisk repeated the words under her breath, her soul glinting red before the light spread down the veins of her legs, slowly fading from red, to purple to blue as the magic reached the soles of her feet, then into the ground. 

Sans glanced down as a dark blue light shot through the rocks like lightning. He readied himself for whatever magic she would use. 

_ “Run!”  _ Frisk took a step and gasped when she climbed into the air for him. Sans faltered with utter shock. Another flash as she dove for him, her body twisting in the air with the grace of a dancer. As she landed behind him, she wove her hands to form a familiar purple rope, snatching him by the neck and pulling him down to her level. She smirked as her breath grazed his skull, and lightly slapped the back of his head. 

“Cheater,” he whispered. Frisk hummed her smug triumph and pulled him closer; she planted a kiss on his cheek bone, eyes gazing up at him. 

“I'm ready for this fight Sans,” she murmured. He nodded slowly as he let out a rumbling breath as her magic dissipated. 

“I know you are…” He turned to her and cupped her face. The two shared a gentle kiss, Frisk sighed into him. They pulled apart, a breath away from each other, Sans's eyelights flickered as his sockets narrowed. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip like he so often did, trying to put every detail of her beautiful face to memory. Her bronze cheeks, smooth skin, her dimples, her soft, cupid bow lips, and most of all, her shimmering, dark eyes. Those dark eyes that reflected the pricks of cyan light of the glow worms like a night sky full of stars. She never failed to take his breath away. 

It was then he realized her eyes had welled up, tears threatening to spill down her face. 

“I'm scared… what if they've already killed her, Sans? What if we're too late?” she asked, her voice cracking. Sans shook his head. 

“We won't be—”

“—But what if we are? I can fight prison guards and Asgore's cronies but what if it was all for nothing?” she whimpered. The sound of her voice breaking was enough to shatter his soul. 

“It won't be for nothing… I can't promise a victory, but I promise it won't be for nothing.” His voice was a growl of such certainty that it almost made her believe him. She sniffed and pulled him into a tight hug. She didn't know what she would do if she failed. 

⁂

The door shot open and two armed guards invaded her cell. Charlotte stumbled up before they grabbed her and threw her onto the ground. She cried out in protest as they forced her arms behind her back, the other guard kneeling on her neck to keep her from resisting. 

"Get… please," she choked. They heaved her off the ground after her shackles were on and pushed her out of the cell. 

"On your feet, bitch," snarled one of the guards as they shoved her down the hall. What was going on? Where were they taking her? 

She began to notice other prisoners joining her. Prisoners she recognized. Shehet… Faolon the Icepacker… and many more of the Snowden residents who had stood up against Muffet that fateful day. All except…  _ Bonnie.  _

"Where is my sister?" She croaked. The guards shushed her harshly. 

Bonnie wasn't anywhere to be found. 

They were frogmarched into a courtyard and Charlotte glanced around to see guards glaring back down at her from the panopticon. A black box carriage was rolled into the courtyard and a soldier opened the back door. 

"Load 'em up!"

"Where are you taking us?" She asked frantically. Where was Bonnie!? She remembered being arrested with Bonnie, but her sister was nowhere to be found. Why had all of Frisk's supporters been rounded up here now except her?  _ She's dead…  _

"You'll find out when ya get there, won't ya?", Snarled one of the guards as they lifted her up and threw her into the carriage. The others shortly followed. 

Where were they taking them!? To another prison? Had they unearthed a plot of rescue and we're trying to move them before a prison break? Or was this something more sinister? 

The carriage jostled as it rolled out and the prisoners clung to their seats and to one another. 

Faolon growled and tried to stand. 

"They can't take us this easily. We have to fight!" He snarled. Charlotte's eyes widened as he planted his feet on the floor. An electric shock was sent up his body and he cried out with terrible agony. Shehet pulled him back into the seat. He twitched and writhed in her arms as the electricity coursed through him. 

Charlotte's throat swelled and her eyes brimmed with tears. This… Whatever Asgore had in store for them, she knew. It was a fate worse than death.

⁂

A bakery wasn't the most secluded place to conspire, but Muffet was growing bored of her casinos. She had always liked a little gamble. 

She glanced up as her associate arrived.  _ Five minutes late. I'll remember that.  _

"Commander Brock… so good to see you again," she said with a growing smirk. Commander Brock, a large cyclops monster presiding over the Core, smiled nervously. Being summoned by Muffet could either go two ways. Death or reward. 

"You asked for me?" He asked. Muffet smiled and leaned forward, her jet-black hair curtaining her face. 

"Did you enjoy my product, Brock? Did you enjoy Frisk De La Noir?" His eyes widened and he gave a quiet gasp of bewilderment at her words. She grinned and sat back. 

"Well? Don't be rude," she snarled. Brock bared his teeth at her; she only laughed in response. 

"What do you want?" He growled under his breath. Muffet giggled quietly and leaned back. 

"I want your loyalty to me and the ranked officers under your command… that's what I want," she crooned. Brock shot her a challenging look. It was his turn to laugh. Her smirk hardened into a harsh frown at his boldness. 

"Your loyalty? What do you need the royal guard for, bitch? You have an entire syndicate at your disposal. Besides, you ain't got your human pet around anymore." The last part was a murmur shared between them. Muffet grabbed the collar of his shirt and he choked. Some of the bakery patrons spared them hidden and curious looks. 

"You still fucked her didn't you? I could ruin your entire career…" she hummed with discontent and tightened her grip on him. He whimpered as she leaned in. Those black eyes burned with something evil deep inside. 

"No… _your entire life_. Think about it Brock… your body hanging limp in a noose, your neck snapped… your pitiful little soul leached from your pathetic excuse of a body." His breath shook as she laid out the scene for him, her voice growing softer as her eyes twinkled with morbid excitement. She sighed mournfully and let him go, sliding back into her seat as if nothing had happened at all. 

"Oh well… one less piece of shit in this hellhole to worry about…" she let her words hang in the air before getting up to leave. She could see his desperation written all over his face, growing worse with each bead of sweat that slid down his brow.  _ Five...four...three… _

She was halfway out the door when he grabbed her jacket sleeve. She shot him a disgusted look and wrenched him off. In the middle of the street, Commander Brock threw himself down at her feet. 

"Ms. Muffet, I beg you'd reconsider!" She smirked, onyx-black eyes glinting with triumph. 

"Get up, you're embarrassing yourself…" she spat. He grit his teeth and rolled back up onto his feet, trying to regain the dignity he had lost.  _ He never had any dignity. _

"I'll have to think about where I stand with you. Until then, be waiting for any further orders." He nodded slowly, trying to hide his grimace of shame. He should have never fallen into the temptation of Muffet's web. He had taken a bite of her apple of Eden and now he would reap the consequences. 

Muffet chuckled to herself and climbed into her carriage as it pulled up. She fluffed her hair and grinned when she saw who was waiting for her inside. 

"Hello, Grillby… did you bring my package?" She asked as her eyes shifted to the woman sitting beside him, a silk bag tied around her head. Her body shook at the sound of Muffet's voice. 

Grillby smirked and grabbed the bag, forcing the woman to look up. He ripped the blinds off of her. Muffet crossed her legs as a shiver of excitement went down her spine. All the cards were folding in her favor and soon Asgore would be powerless against her. 

"Greetings and salutations Bonnie, how was Frostgate?" she crooned. Bonnie's eyes widened, her body shaking almost uncontrollably in the presence of the notorious Spider crime boss. 

“Muffet...” she breathed. Muffet rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue with boredom. 

"And Grillby! Great, now that everyone is acquainted,  _ let's talk business."  _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok, a lot of cards are being played right now. So many moving parts! Where are they taking Charlotte? What the fuck is that spider bitch planning!? Stay tuned for next Saturday! 
> 
> Up Next: A prison break? You can call it that.


	64. Raw Power

Chapter Sixty-four: Raw Power

* * *

  
  


_ "The key to understanding how to bend time to your will is feeling every movement that brushes your body, every breath you take, how many breaths you take. Focus on a constant, something that can not change but is always changing. A clock? Maybe. The dripping of a leaking water spout? …Perhaps. Of course, it's a spell you'll have to memorize. Different spells for different outcomes. But in order for the spell to work you have to know what patience feels like."  _

"I understand." 

_ "Good. Then repeat after me: _

_ Táimid ag dul go gasta _

They couldn't mess this up. So much was at stake. Frisk could feel the blood pumping through her veins, her heart working double-time to keep up with her terror. 

She didn't have the luxury of being afraid anymore. Now more than ever, she had to be the hero everyone believed she was. Toriel had believed in her, Asriel, Doug, Alexander… they were all counting on her. And Muffet… Muffet and Asgore were counting on her to fail. 

There was no way in this hell that she would let them win! Her soul flared with seething red light as she reached out her energy. She was determined to see this to the end. Whatever that meant… She would soon find out. 

She searched for a source of magic to draw from. Asriel was sitting on her shoulder, an immediate source of power. She could either be a magnifier, or a siphon. 

Red lights flashed as a siren went off. The riot had started then. She could hear the shouting and snarling drifting to her ears. Doug and Alexander had done their part then.  _ Get out of there.  _ She thought frantically. 

"Come on, if they're here for the same reason I was, then they're definitely down this way," said Nick. Frisk nodded firmly and chased behind him as they darted through the corridors. Frisk unlocked caged halls and they raced through lonely cell blocks. The prison was mostly empty… for obvious reasons. 

  
  


_ Lig am bogadh go mall _

Nick was carrying with him a large pack of explosives to be used once they made it to the cellblock he was sure would be holding them. He’d scouted the prison out beforehand he’d  _ been  _ in the prison for the same crime. Treason was definitely not treated lightly in the Underground, and in fact, most prisoners were imprisoned for treason. Political prisoners. Murderers certainly didn’t go to prison… Muffet’s cabal had never been in prison, despite their many crimes. Frisk gritted her teeth. 

The three didn't come across much opposition, and Nick had only had to pull her against a wall to hide from one set of guards making their way to the yard.

Absolute chaos. She hoped this would give Asgore hell. She would make the Underground and its kill or be killed society crumble beneath her wings. 

Her lips trembled as the icy air seeped through her coat. She hadn't worn a mask. She figured there would really be no need for it anymore considering she was already a wanted criminal according to the king. However, now part of her wished she had brought something to cover her face. Her nose and cheeks were pinched with numbing cold. 

Dread settled in her gut. There was a real possibility that Charlotte had died. After all, from what Nick and Sans had told her about Frostgate, it was common for prisoners to just die from the below-freezing temperatures. 

Frisk sent up a small prayer, hoping against all hope they had made it on time. 

  
  


_ Agus b’fhéidir isteach _

Doug and Alexander stood back to back in the center of the riot. Where the fuck was a reaper when you needed one!? 

"See an opening mate?" Asked Doug as he kicked an inmate away. They weren’t there to fight prisoners. A guard swung a baton at him, Alexander ducking and weaving the blows. He let out a deep breath, his soul glinting with white light as he grabbed the monster by the head. His magic shot down his veins as he ventured into the consciousness of the monster's mind. 

His red thread shot through their mind and dragged their sanity into the depths of madness in a matter of mere seconds.  Alexander dropped them and the guard thudded to the ground; twitching sporadically like some kind of ant that had been crushed under his boot. 

Doug's eyes went wide at the sight and he glanced up at Alexander. He smiled nervously. 

"Remind me not to get on ya bad side," he teased. Alexander shot him an unamused frown. 

  
  


_ An seó i láthair _

  
  


Red smoke. Sans stepped into the crowd of rioting inmates. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a guard pounce toward him. He grabbed his wrist and flipped him over his shoulder. He stepped down on his shoulder and cracked his elbow over his knee like a twig. 

Sans sniffed and wiped his hands off on his jacket before he turned to the wall and fences. His eyes went black and smoke began to pour out from his sockets. 

As a guard shot toward him, Doug jumped to his defense, metal screaming against metal before he swept him out from under his feet. 

The shadow of Sans's dragon formed behind him and the inmates and guards around them faltered and gaped in terror as the dragon snarled and opened its fanged jaws. 

"SHOOT THE REAPER!" Snarled one of the guards as they held up a crossbow. Red-orange smoke. Just as he was about to shoot, his weapon was jolted upward by a hand. A bone shot through the stone and pierced him.

Papyrus shoved him over the edge of the turret before he stepped back into the cover of his mist. 

A scalding blast of energy shook the prison and the inner wall exploded. The inmates cheered and rushed out of the debris like water gushing out from a broken dam. 

_ Stop an nóiméad seo _

Frisk stumbled as the walls trembled from the energy outside. They had made their move on the wall. Her heart spiked with a mixture of excitement and adrenaline. Truly, what was the difference? 

"Halt!" Snarled a guard from down the hall as they finally ran out of luck. Nick growled and whipped out a dagger. 

Asriel acted first, shouting as he shot his bullets at the guard, his sword batted the stinging seeds away. Frisk shot past Nick. They didn't have time for this! 

Her soul burst with red light and the guard gasped at the realization that he was facing  _ the  _ human. 

Frisk shouted as she summoned her determination, her eyes glinting as a spark coursed through her veins. She cried out in newfound agony as electricity surged through her before crackling out of her fingertips. The corridor flashed with a yellow and black bang that left them stunned. 

Nick gasped and watched as he went down, writhing and twisting as his body coursed with lightning. The lights flickered and Frisk dropped to her knees. Panic struck her mind at the thought that she had killed him _. Shit!_

Fortunately, Asriel was already healing him, the guard screamed out in agony as he did so. Nick kneeled beside them and turned him over as he cried out. They arrested him with his own handcuffs and Nick sat him against the wall. The guard groaned. His cold eyes wandered up, Frisk swimming in and out of focus. 

"Now what the hell did ya do that for?" He sneered. Frisk narrowed her eyes and squatted down to his level. 

"Because fuck Asgore; in my world it's _save or be saved,"_ she said as she allowed herself to smile at him. The guard's eyes widened and he watched them run down the hall, leaving him alone in his cuffs… Alone with his thoughts. __

"Save or be saved?" Asked Asriel. Frisk shrugged and watched as Nick stopped in front of a sealed door. He glanced at her and smirked as he held up the guard's key card. Her face brightened and she pumped her fist with triumph. 

"Nick, you're a certified  _ genius!"  _ She exclaimed. They high-fived and she followed him into the tight hall. It was much darker in there than it had been outside. They were so close! She could feel it. Charlotte was so close. Charlotte, Bonnie, Shehet! So close. She couldn't fail.  _ She couldn't fail!  _

_ An uair seo a bheith fós _

They passed through another sealed door, Nick covering Frisk as they crept down the dark corridor. 

"This should be it. This is where they kept me, and I was an Angelican. They've been accused of treason… Put two and two together, right?" He murmured as they opened latches to look inside the cramped cells. 

Frisk shivered. It was colder than it had been on the upper levels. She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her body shook violently and she leaned against the wall as her body stiffened. There was no way someone could survive this temperature. She couldn't allow herself to think that way. 

"Hey, you alright?" Asked Nick as concern crossed his face. He could no longer ignore the creeping freeze. Frisk nodded and pushed herself back into a walk. 

They checked another cell. Nothing. Surely there should be prisoners? 

"Are you… sure this is the right place?" She chattered. Nick nodded slowly and dropped his bag. 

"Help me unload this dynamite!" Frisk nodded and went to his side. What if they weren't here? What if they had died?  _ It's impossible for them all to have died. It'll be ok Frisk.  _

"Charlotte?" She called out as Nick carefully set up the explosives. 

"Evening darling  _ tralala, _ " croaked an old voice. Frisk subconsciously flinched at the name  _ darling.  _

Nick glanced up and shot a worried look at Frisk. 

"Hello? Do you… was a woman named Charlotte down here?" She asked as she came to the cell door and opened the slot. A tired old man sat inside. She recognized him… 

"There was a woman… say you don't sound like the regular…  _ tralala _ . I recognize your voice," he croaked as he slowly stood up from his living death. Frisk frowned. 

"Was?" She whispered. He came to the door and stared into her eyes. 

"Yes, I remember you. You were the girl who gave me coin… you're… not a tiefling though." His eyes widened the longer he stared at her uncovered face. She shook her head. 

Where was Charlotte? He had said “ _ was _ .” What could that possibly imply? Dread pooled in her stomach. Ice. Had they executed her before she could rescue her? "Where is Charlotte? Please tell me!"

The old man faltered as he saw the glint of desperation in her eyes. Asriel and Nick swallowed nervously at the sight of her soul burning ferociously in her chest. They could see the outline of her ribs as it lit the room. A red star. 

“Taken.” 

_ Chun é seo a bheidh _

  
  


Red smoke poured into the Panopticon and the warden choked as he whipped around. His throat was grabbed from behind and he was spun on his feet as he was slammed into the wall. His breath came in frantic gasps for air as he stared wide eyed into the empty, black sockets of Papyrus Gaster. 

“The Snowden traitors. Where are they being kept? Answer me now before I rip out your bones one by one,” he snarled. The Warden shook. 

“You can’t do that,” he croaked. Papyrus grinned as his brother and their two other associates crept into the room. 

“Do you want to find out?” he asked. The Warden’s eyes widened. 

“We don’t know—” Sans slammed an arm against the wall. 

“—Don’t fucking lie! Where are you keeping the Snowden residents!?” he roared. The Warden choked with fear, his legs buckling; Papyrus’s iron grip was the only thing keeping him standing. 

“We had orders to transfer them, but we were never briefed on where they were being sent!” he squealed. Doug glanced down at the prison and he croaked as it suddenly occurred to them just how useless this mission had turned out to be. No! It was a lie. It had to be!

“You’re lying!” he barked. Sans stepped back, his eyes going black. 

“No… he’s not…” he breathed. Papyrus gritted his teeth. His fingers tightened around the monster’s throat, his pulse beating frantically against Papyrus’s clutch. Sans, Doug and Alex watched as Papyrus brought the warden to his knees, his fist crushing his windpipe into dust until the light in his eyes went cold and his soul drifted out from his crumbling body. 

Papyrus stepped back, his eyes dark with rage.  “We… we were too late…” he uttered. Sans placed a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. The light flickered back on and they shared a look of shock.  _ They had failed.  _

Sans choked at the realization that Frisk was in there with nothing to show for it. It was all a trap! They would kill her! He had to get to her before reinforcements arrived and stole her away from him.  _ I can’t lose her. Not again!  _

  
  


_ An t-aon uacht atá agam. _

  
  
  


Taken. 

“Freeze! Hands in the air where I can see them!” hollered a captain as the corridor was stormed with guards. Nick jumped back and pulled out a stick of dynamite. 

Frisk’s lip trembled as the weight of her new discovery crushed her. Taken. Charlotte had been taken. She was too late. She had…  _ she had lost. She was a failure.  _ She hadn't acted soon enough. She had wasted all her time  _ healing  _ when she should've been fighting!  __

“I said hands in the air where I can see them,  _ human!”  _ spat the captain. Frisk felt her body move, but her mind was drifting as rage began to bubble in the pit of her stomach where dread had once been. Pure… unadulterated  _ rage.  _ Her eyes narrowed as a snarl escaped her lips. 

“Frisk?” murmured Asriel as he noticed the darkness in her eyes. 

Her heart pumped her adrenaline and  _ rage  _ throughout her body and her soul was burning. The room was red. The freezing air melted with the heat of the star in her chest. 

The captain growled and pulled out his whip with a slap. Nick sprung forth to defend her. She lifted her chin as the words spilled out of her. 

_ "Táimid ag dul go gasta _

_ Lig am bogadh go mall _

_ Agus b’fhéidir isteach _

_ An seó i láthair _

_ Stop an nóiméad seo _

_ An uair seo a bheith fós _

_ Chun é seo a bheidh _

_ An t-aon uacht atá agam!"  _

The light came pouring out of her soul with a flash of blue, and the guards were trapped in a capsule of time; the magic glittered like a diamond in dim light of the corridor. Caught like insects in amber. 

"Frisk?" Breathed Nick. 

_ "YES! Embrace your determination! Destroy this oppressive establishment once and for all!"  _ Harped Chara with a cruel excitement Frisk had never heard before. It thrilled her to the bone and she marched forth as her soul glowed ever brighter, consuming her. 

Nick tried to chase after her, but he couldn't keep up with the woman now drunk on her own power.  There was a flash of yellow and Nick was thrown off his feet as the walls around him exploded. 

"Nick!" Cried Asriel, who had been knocked to the ground. Nick scooped him up and gritted his teeth as his ears rang. He was struck with fear. He didn't know much about humans but… weren't they supposed to be weak? 

A raspy laugh filled the crumbling corridor as the halls echoed with destruction. Nick glanced back at the old man's cell and gasped. 

"You best find your angel,  _ tralala… _ before she becomes the angel of  _ death,"  _ he croaked. Nick's breath shook and he spared a frantic look at Asriel. 

"What about you? We can't just—"

"—Leave me. I'm sure the angel will provide a way. Let this be part of my testimony,  _ tralala... _ " he said with a twinkle in his eyes. Nick stumbled away from the cell. 

"Did you know she could do that!?" He asked Asriel as they sprinted around the guards frozen in time. Asriel's seedy lips trembled. 

"Chara… they're…" Nick shook his head in confusion. Asriel looked up. They were more similar than he had first thought. 

  
  


⁂

When Jericho had been enlisted in the Royal Guard, he had never in his life expected this. Humans were supposed to be weak little things a monster could easily crush.  He had never believed the Frostgate prison could be torn apart brick by brick, and yet… The walls were imploding on themselves. 

And  _ she  _ was right in front of him and his comrades. Burning. A red sun. A… a  _ god.  _

They tried to hold their own against her, but they couldn't even get within five feet unless they were willing to risk electrocution.  The ceiling was caving in and Jericho… for the first time in a long time was stricken with terror. This was how he would die! 

Just as he was about to get crushed by a chunk of rock, the goddess shoved him out of the way and took the brunt of the debris. He gasped and watched as she heaved it up, the muscles in her arms bulging as she slammed it against the wall. His eyes widened. 

The human had saved him? 

"Get out of here!" She thundered, her voice like a raging storm. Jericho nodded and glanced at his comrades. They were already fleeing the scene. 

"Fall back! Let the rubble do the job!" Called his captain. He nodded frantically and chased after his team. 

He, however, couldn't help but look back as the star of a human sparked with electricity. A gigantic bolt of lightning surged through the crumbling debris and they were thrown out from the building in the blast. Jericho's wings caught him and he strained in the howling wind.  Frantically, he looked about as the prison imploded. The inmates were making a break for it through the crumbling walls and red smoke covered the courtyard. It was pure chaos! 

⁂

  
  


All Sans could think about was the destruction around him. He didn't understand half of what was going on, but he knew Frisk was in danger.  Red smoke filled the crumbling halls as Sans desperately searched for her. Lightning surged through the sky in a sporadic dance of rage, the roof of the prison had been torn off only minutes ago.  Inmates jumped at the opportunity of freedom. He shoved past a few guards and prisoners both occupied by only one motive.  _ Escape.  _

"FRISK!" roared Sans as he made it to the center of the lightning storm. He froze when he saw…  _ a star  _ hovering just above the ground as lightning surrounded her. His eyes widened.  "Frisk!" He called as he edged his way through the destruction. Would he even be able to get close enough without getting completely obliterated? Stones were turning to dust right before his eyes. 

"Brother!" Called Papyrus. Their three comrades raced behind him and they faltered when they saw the absolute mania before them. 

"She's lost it!" Cried Nick. Asriel's eyes widened. She was destroying both wings of the prison! Sans gritted his teeth. 

"Brother be careful!" 

"Frisk! Listen to me! It's going to be ok!" He shouted. Frisk whirled around to face him, and he stopped when he saw the look of absolute anguish on her tear-streaked face. Her soul was consuming her. Would she even hear him?  _ I can't lose her! She'll kill herself!  _

"This is just the beginning! Every war has lost battles, but we're not done yet! They haven't won as long as we're alive. We're still alive Frisk!" Her eyes widened and the electricity around her grew spastic, shooting out with an unpredictable ferocity. Sans cussed under his breath and ducked under the cover of a large piece of rubble. 

Frisk howled with rage and grief as she leveled the prison around her with blasts of lightning. Papyrus held up his hand, eye flaring as he tried to bring her back to earth. 

"Don't!" Ordered Sans. As soon as Frisk's soul flared with blue light she whipped around to face Papyrus and snarled. A force of red exploded from her chest, knocking them onto their asses. 

Sans took the opportunity his brother's distraction had offered him and he teleported into his smoke. 

Frisk yelped with shock as he clasped her waist. Sans pulled her back down to earth and held her as she let out a feral scream. She tried to kick and punch out from his grip. He hushed her and put a firm hand on her heart. Her chest heaved uncontrollably as her soul burned against his touch. 

"It's ok, it's ok, it's ok. You're still alive, you're still here. We'll find them. We'll free Snowden, but you have to calm down. It'll be ok, you just have to breathe," he murmured desperately as she wrestled with him. For some reason her soul hadn't forced him away, instead only seemed to glow brighter with his touch. 

His soul glinted and his eye flared almost against his will. He felt a surge of energy flood him, energy he hadn't felt in a long time. Smoke poured out of his eyes in great plumes. 

Papyrus watched in horror as his brother and Frisk held each other, their souls glowing as power charged through them. 

_ "Help me tear this place to the ground. Destroy this evil with me,"  _ she pleaded, her eyes wide with mania as she grasped his hand in hers. A spark flew through them. His soul was flooded with burning fire. He had never felt this kind of power. She was sharing it with him, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to fulfill her every desire. 

"Take cover!" Gasped Papyrus as he realized the destruction that would soon occur. 

Her lips twitched into a grin as an enormous dragon burst out from the clouds, its skeletal wings spreading through the air and slamming against the rocks, throwing the rubble into the lightning. Sans roared with pain and gripped her shoulders. She hugged him close as his body faltered. It let out a blood-curdling howl as a bolt of energy scored the panopticon, the prison crumbling into nothing but dust and snow around them as she magnified Sans's magic to finish the job. 

The two gasped and clung to one another as they tried to regain their breath. Frisk buried her head in his chest as she sobbed, her body shaking with rage. Sans stumbled to his knees as the power receded from him like a beach sucked dry. What had just happened? He had never been  _ that  _ powerful. His dragon had only shown its skull in the physical plane. 

He could’ve… He could’ve  _ died.  _ And yet… there had been something so addicting about the way she had made him feel. The  _ rush  _ she had given him. His body was still high on the energy and power she had surged through him. On her. He was a moth and she was a raging bonfire. It was terrifying… 

Frisk ran a gentle hand over his skull and helped him back up, the two embracing each other as if the moment they stopped touching they'd turn to ashes. 

"What was that?" He croaked into her hair. Frisk shook violently as her soul shimmered with righteous content. His touch soothed the storm and she felt herself caving into him. 

"Frisk, what happened to you? You just… you used my magic," he breathed with a growing alarm. 

She tightened her grip around him as her legs buckled. "I don't know… I'm scared," She whispered. Sans ran a hand through her hair. He was too. They had just leveled a prison that had been standing for years and he could’ve died doing it. He felt like a stream that had just been overrun by an ocean. He had no idea a human could be that powerful. He had no idea  _ Frisk  _ could be that powerful. 

"Why?" He murmured. Frisk shook and looked up at him, her soul fading from view. The vengeful goddess she had become was now crumbling and she was just Frisk again.  _ His Frisk.  _

"Because I loved every second of it," she croaked as she looked down at her hands. He shivered at the words. He tried not to let his eyes betray the fear that shook through him. She noticed it though, she noticed everything, she knew him too well. She shook her head and her lip curled. She pressed her forehead against her chest and let out a strangled cry. A thousand  _ “I’m sorry’s”  _ spilled from her trembling lips. 

"They're gonna think I'm some kind of monster," she whispered as she spared a glance at the wide eyes of their teammates and friends. Truly, they were shaken. Sans didn’t know what to say, but he knew he couldn’t just let her wallow in her growing terror. Fear of herself. The worst kind. He would deal with his conflicting emotions later, right now… he needed to make sure she was ok. 

"We're all monsters down here," he murmured as he kissed her forehead. A soft smile graced her lips as tears streamed down her eyes. She frowned and stepped away, hobbling on her feet as her energy drained from her body and left her an empty husk. 

Nick was the first to break the tension as he crossed the rubble and made his way to her. His frown melted into a nervous smile and he held open his arms with warm acceptance. 

"I think it's time she was initiated," he said matter of factly. Nick had always known she'd have a role to play in all this. That she wasn't just down here by chance. But now her path was clear as crystal to him. She would be their angel. She would be their rallying force. She'd be their  _ determination.  _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Frisk's soul really said "Instead of a dark lord, you will have a QUEEN! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! All shall love me and despair!" 
> 
> Up Next: Chara consuls Frisk, and Sans tries to alleviate some of her stress~ 
> 
> If you are enjoying this story, I would love to hear your feedback! You can only give one kudo, but comments are unlimited! Love you guys and see you next Saturday!


	65. Fool's Hope

**A/N: Hello and welcome back everyone! Before we get into the chapter today, I have some art to dump! If you follow my[Tumblr](http://the-writing-mobster.tumblr.com), you've probably already seen them! But if not, then here they are, for your viewing pleasure~**

[ **Broody Sans** ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1909c6fd616341c4a3a805f4671458f1/1f19e4cf62716006-0d/s2048x3072/c68eeba81eea048f8b82119f69b131b4832bc010.jpg)

[ **Badass Frisk** ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5c12cc4158659b0466ba08b7d12a7ee5/eb077dd5fb1e0882-ac/s1280x1920/5d5620122d1e23b51ba175e6fbce7b154471213e.jpg)

[ **Frans almost kiss Valentine's day art** ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8eddd6eb4ba946666dfc30821be097b7/3380203ffc37ecd6-3e/s2048x3072/a702b80a144978928e9459cf0ea884ae773e9053.jpg)

**Alright, that's all I wanted to show you! If you want to create Fanart, I highly encourage it! Thank you for reading and please enjoy _Chapter 65~_**

* * *

Chapter Sixty-five: Fool's Hope 

* * *

_ "That was amazing, Frisk. I believe you're even more powerful than I was, and you're just now getting the hang of it!"  _

Frisk sat huddled in her room, her skin burning with anxiety as she played back the memories of  __ destruction. An entire prison. She had destroyed an entire prison. That kind of power terrified her, and even more… she had dragged Sans into her mania. 

What was worse… she could've killed Papyrus. She could've killed everyone had she been a little more blood thirsty. And… Even after all that, Charlotte was still missing. 

_ "Think about everything we could do for the monsters. You could liberate Snowden right now by yourself. You're a one man army!"  _ Frisk shook her head at her over eager friend. 

"That wouldn't be wise. I can't let that happen again, I have to be more in control of my determination or else it's going to destroy me," she declared. An image came to her mind. Frisk Valeska. The dark part of her that revelled in the destruction and drama of her life. Chara hummed with disappointment. 

_ "Sure… human magic can often be unpredictable and you don't know your own strength… but destroying that prison was  _ necessary." Chara's version of reassurance was baffling to say the least. 

"People could've died. People I love. I… not even mentioning the fact I  _ forced  _ Sans to—"

_ "— Stop! You didn't force Sans to do anything. You only magnified his own magic. He did that by himself. And you know why? Because Sans would do anything you asked him to do. That is one loyal ally,"  _ said Chara matter of factly. Frisk twitched at the implication. 

"Don't talk about him like that. He's more than my ally…. He's… I love him, and I could’ve killed him," she breathed. She didn't want to force him to do anything. She didn't want him to feel like he owed her, like he  _ had  _ to bow to her every whim. Her megalomania had put everyone in danger. 

_ "And he loves you too. You really should've seen it. You two were like…. Titans. Unstoppable and inseparable, he was completely safe in your grip,"  _ Frisk nodded slowly as she remembered the way he had looked at her. The way they had held each other. She shook her head and grabbed the necklace as it hummed with warmth. 

“What do you mean he was safe? Papyrus once told me a reaper and their counterpart can’t coexist on the same plane, they’d implode on themselves. He could’ve died because of me. Everyone could’ve died because of me,” she breathed as tears brimmed in her eyes. Chara paused as she processed the weight of Frisk’s emotions. 

_ “Your magic magnified him, which meant you were also channeling his power. He’s obviously still alive and well. Trust me. And besides, I was watching you. You had every opportunity to kill the prison guards and any opposition you faced… But you didn't. You're more in control of yourself than you think,"  _ she pleaded as she tried to get Frisk back on track. Frisk weighed the consequences and sighed as she accepted Chara’s points. Chara was, after all, the more experienced of the two. 

“I don’t want to learn any more offensive magic for the time being… at least not until I figure out how to fully control my emotions,” she stated with a nod of finality. Chara sighed to herself. 

_ "Ok… I suppose that's reasonable enough,"  _ she murmured. Frisk nodded firmly and glanced up with alarm as the door clicked open. Her eyes softened when she realized who it was. She drew the necklace off and hid it in a drawer as he walked in. 

"Sans," she breathed as she drew up to her feet. The two embraced and he combed his fingers through her hair. She sighed into him before pulling away. Her eyes welled as tears threatened to spill. He hushed her gently and gripped her chin with a soft firmness. 

"I'm not mad at you baby," he whispered with an unyielding finality. Her breath shook and she nodded as she gave him a sad smile. All she could suddenly think about was his touch… and that infuriating hum of content her soul always seemed to make. That craving that never went away, in fact, only grew stronger with each passing day. 

"I know." Sans smirked and he tightened his grip on her chin as he leaned in. Frisk wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him closer, the two kissing with gentle passion. 

He pulled away and brushed his fangs against her neck, grinning as she hummed. His touch sent sparks down her entire body, their souls glinting. Their bodies had not forgotten the power they had shared, the high they had indulged in. She was alarmed to find her soul practically begging for more. 

"You have a way of bringing me to my knees," he growled. A shiver ran down her spine at his words and her soul glinted with desire. It had been so long since they had done anything together and the last time hadn't ended favorably… 

Did she really deserve that though? After all, all of her friends were missing and possibly even dead, Snowden was still under Asgore's totalitarian control and she was still shaken over her own display of raw power. The very idea of indulging in pleasure felt  _ wrong.  _ Like she was actively letting loose while everyone else suffered. A guilt that weighed heavily on her heart. 

Sans seemed to sense this hesitation and frowned as he pulled away. He furrowed his brows as he read the guilt written all over her face. 

"You're so stressed. I know you wanna do all this shit and help all these people, but how are you gonna do that when you're wound up like a clock?" He kissed her, his fangs trailing down to her neck. She nodded along and bit her lip as she tried to conceal the shiver going down her spine. 

"We've been dealing with a lot of shit, you especially and…" he murmured as he kissed her collar bone. She hummed with enticement as he continued. His grip on her waist tightened as she let out a small gasp. She had yearned for his touch. 

"You deserve a break. No, fuck that. Not even a break. You deserve a good time," he growled as his hands slid down her hips. She whimpered as he pulled away, his tongue running over his fangs in that way that made her soul spark with need. He was right. She could use a distraction… 

"Well," she purred as she brought him for another kiss. He growled against her lips and slid his hand down to her thigh, lifting her leg to straddle his hip as he pressed her against the bed. 

She giggled and slid onto the bed, their mouths not parting for a second. He pressed his knee between her legs and she let out a soft moan as they sank down against the duvet. Her soul flared with arousal. God she needed this. Real sex. Good sex. Sex had never frightened her, it was the lack of control that kept her up and darkened her dreams. But Sans… she knew she was safe in his arms. She knew she'd be taken care of and appreciated. 

Her eyes softened as he pulled away and gazed down at her. They belonged to each other. 

"I love you," she whispered. His grin widened and he nibbled her lip. 

"I love you too," he growled against her jaw. She was so gorgeous. So powerful. So enchanting. She had him wrapped around her little finger. He wanted her. He knew he had wanted her since the moment they had met but he had never been able to admit it until recently. 

"Just relax, I'm gonna take care of you." She bit her lip to hide her smile as he pulled off his shirt. They worked together to take off her pants and his hand rested at her pussy. A heavy sigh exploded off her lips as he thumbed and rubbed circles against her clit. 

Frisk clumsily unbuttoned her blouse while his hands worked her folds. She threw her head back as he hit a sweet spot, a strained whimper escaping her perfect, little lips. He chuckled and pulled her hair to give himself access to her neck, which she granted wholeheartedly. 

She'd had no idea how much she missed this. She had almost forgotten how good he was. The bite of his fangs, the rumble of his voice. Every purr that tickled her ear sent shivers of arousal down her spine. She could feel her nethers begin to grow hot with anticipation.  _ Need.  _ It had been so long and she was so wound up. So stressed. She felt like a tight coil of wire finally being untangled.  _ Take me,  _ fuck  _ me,  _ was all she could think as he took his time. 

His fangs and tongue lapped and bit at her tender neck. She let out a heavy breath as the coils in her soul began to unravel one at a time. His fingers firmly and deliberately rubbing and sliding between and against her folds and clit. She was wet with want. She could feel her guilt melt away like a block of ice. He had a way of intoxicating her. 

He trailed down her collar, palming her breast and toying with her nipple as his hot, purring breath teased her delicate skin. He was driving her insane in all the best ways. 

Her hands caressed his skull as he bit and kissed her stomach. Her soul was practically humming her approval.  _ I need more.  _ She moaned as his tongue drew down her bare stomach and his fingers and pace grew faster. 

He shifted lower on the bed and she breathed a heavy and shaking sigh as he lifted her leg over his shoulder. He grinned down at her as his tongue trailed down her thigh, the tickle of his hot breath against her skin. Her heart spiked with the realization of what he'd do and she moaned.  _ Oh God, fuck yes, I love this man!  _

He chuckled at the look of awe and utter excitement brightening her face. So adorable. She definitely deserved this. After everything she'd been through. It wasn't much but… sex was great. Especially sex with someone who cared about you.  _ Actually  _ cared. Since when had a man in her life taken the time to pleasure her and only her? In a way, making her feel good was its own reward. 

His tongue and teeth lapped and bit their way down to her inner thighs and then to her cunt. She was dripping with need. God he'd fuck her right now if he hadn't already resolved himself to eating her out. There would be plenty of time for  _ that  _ later. For now… 

She moaned and whimpered as he licked her folds, her legs wrapped around his shoulders and dragging him closer. His hands gripped her hips, fingers squeezing her flawless skin. 

"How? How? How are you good at this?" She gasped with disbelief as he devoured her, and he laughed at the question. Her hips rolled against his face. He'd craved her for months. Her moans. The way her legs and breath shook. The hum and the glint of their souls. The overwhelming feeling of complete and utter  _ satisfaction  _ and content. The way she drove him completely insane. 

She moaned softly as he tongued and sucked at her pussy. Where  _ had _ he learned to do this? She guessed, much like her, he had his experiences with sex. As if that's what she could call her experiences. Sex with Sans was really the first time a man had ever cared about her in bed. No one cared about pleasing prostitutes so she never finished while working in that industry. A lot of people had just expected work from her,  _ the whore,  _ rather than treating her like a person. She didn't even want to think about the horrors Muffet had put her through. 

A gasp exploded out from her mouth as he tongued her clit, the vibrations of his growls tickling her. Her legs shook and her hands roamed her body with ecstacy until they found his skull. She caressed his head as he continued to eat her out. 

"Oh,  _ fuck,  _ Sans!  _ Je t'adore,"  _ she breathed. He hummed at the praise as she squirmed underneath him. He dragged her closer to him and wrapped his arms around her thighs for more control over her trembling body. She arched her back and rolled her hips against him as he devoured her. She could feel her climax on the rise and she moaned as it flooded her like a tidal wave. He didn't stop and she jolted up, her legs trembling uncontrollably. 

He pulled away with half lidded eyes as he took her in. She panted and collapsed against the mattress and he chuckled as he wiped his mouth. So beautiful. 

⁂

The two laid arm in arm, Sans running his thumb along her exposed skin. Drunk on the hazy afternoon and their own pleasure. She hummed and wrapped an arm around him, a small smirk lifting the corners of her lips. 

"When was your first time?" She asked with a sleepy yawn. Sans sighed in thought as he pondered her question. 

"Shit man, put me on the spot why dontcha… I was sixteen and really fuckin stupid," he said with a small, bittersweet laugh. Frisk joined in and nodded along her agreements. 

"God. Story of my life," she grumbled. There was a breath of understanding shared between them. The feeling of being in each other's arms. Complete, souls glinting with contentment. 

"You know… I never expected you to be like this. When we first knew each other that is," she murmured, her hair curtaining her face as she propped herself up on her elbow. Sans grinned and shook his head as he gazed up at her. 

"What did you think I'd be like?" He asked. Frisk shrugged as a darkness passed over her eyes. 

"An asshole… but you've really proved me wrong," she purred as she kissed his jaw. He smiled and ran a hand through her hair. 

_ "That's the asshole who you compare me to… right?"  _

_ "Do you blame me?"  _

_ "No..."  _

_ "Hm, well… I'll let you know if that changes." _

"Well… I'm relieved you gave me the chance to prove you wrong," he said with a wink. She smiled blissfully and ran a hand along his bare sternum. For a man made of bones, he could be quite comfortable. 

"So am I… tell me something… when did you first find me attractive? Like… this is silly but, did you ever like…" Sans laughed at her musings and he nodded slowly. A blush rose to her cheeks and she grinned. Of course, half a year ago she'd have been appalled but… that was ancient history and she had to be honest with herself. The darker side of her revelled in the attention. Consensual attention was always appreciated. 

"Um… well—" he cut himself off with a nervous laugh and she giggled along. 

"Well if we're being honest here, you're really -no-  _ extremely  _ attractive. I would be lying if I said I wasn't side eyeing you from the moment we met." Frisk bit her lip as her cheeks flushed. She didn't doubt that for a second, after all… she had noticed his curious and lust-filled gazes. She shivered at the memories. 

"Yeah?" He nodded and hummed as he twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers. She bit her lip. 

“Was there a specific moment?” she asked in her sugar coated voice and his eyelights brightened. 

“You're a little vain,” he teased. Her face went flush and she whined playfully at the words. He chuckled and cupped her face, giving her forehead a kiss. 

“There are so many… but uh, I'll go for when I actually started  _ liking _ you because attraction and liking someone are two very different things… It was on the roof. You were… you were leaning against me and wearing my jacket… and your hair was wet. I… I really wanted to kiss you. But I didn't and I actually panicked a little.” Frisk's eyes glittered as he told the story. Her lip trembled and she smiled a hidden smile. The roof was definitely special. 

“Well…you can kiss me now,” she whispered. He gazed hungrily across at her, and without skipping a beat, pressed his fangs against those pouty lips that had always captivated him. 

"What about you?" He asked as he pulled away. She rested her chin on her hands, propped up by his sternum. She knew she had hated him for a good bit, but they'd had their moments before… and she could remember exactly when she had first started to  _ want  _ him. 

"That's complicated… Because I really hated you when we first knew each other. I think the first time I started warming up to you was that one morning when I was listening to the Beatles and we talked about philosophy and poetry… and God… I really started to want you… we were in the kitchen play fighting. You came up behind me and  _ purred  _ against my neck and something just kind of clicked…" she murmured, her face growing redder the longer she talked. Sans's grin widened at the resurfaced memories that belonged to only them. 

"I remember that…" he purred as he nibbled at her ear. A hot breath escaped her as his hands slid down her back. They pulled apart and Frisk rested her head on her chest. 

They laid together in blissful silence. She wanted the moment to last forever. What she'd give to trap herself in time with just him… Technically she could but… she knew there was no real point to that. She had him now. 

"Frisk… who… you don't have to answer this if it's too much but… Do you remember Muffet's clients?" Asked Sans quietly. She glanced up to see his eye sockets had gone black and a chill crawled up her spine at the sight. 

Her heart wrenched and stomach clenched with agony at the painful memories. Or not so much memories. Nothing from that wretched time had been set in concrete, everything was a blurry haze that she could hardly even make out. But she remembered  _ Mettaton _ and Muffet's disgusting photographer. 

"I can't remember. Trying to recall anything is both painful and like stumbling through a dark room… Like when you're trying to find a light switch… Muffet really… she really did a number on me didn't she?" She croaked as her eyes stung with tears. Sans's grin faltered and he gripped her shoulders in his large hands. 

"You're stronger than Muffet. So much stronger," he growled. She smiled sadly and nodded along as he wiped the tears from her eyes. Frisk frowned when she realized why Sans was asking. Revenge… There was a cruel voice in her cheering him on. Begging him to dole out the pain dealt to her. They did deserve it. Mettaton did, as well as Muffet. They deserved to suffer just as much as she had. But… there was an answer that excluded death. Besides… maybe…  _ maybe  _ death was a mercy. 

"Sans… Don't go after Muffet. I want to be the one who decides what happens to her." Sans watched her as she glared up at the ceiling, her soul ablaze with a determined glint. He sat up and cupped her face with his hands. They shared a gaze and Frisk breathed out a longing sigh as he kissed her. 

They jumped as the door knob jiggled and a knock pounded on the steel. Frisk and Sans shared a panicked look as she slid off of him and tackled on her jeans. Sans laughed quietly and he jerked his shirt back over his head. 

"Brother! Why is this door locked!?" Snapped Papyrus from the other side. Frisk shook her head as she tried to stifle her nervous laughter. The two shared a look as they pulled their clothes back on. Frisk made sure to grab Chara's locket and slip it back on over her head.  _ You didn't hear anything did you?  _ She asked. 

_ "Um no, I'm only conscious in the physical plane when in contact with you… what did I miss? Ohhhh… I see… Told you he wouldn't be upset,"  _ teased Chara and Frisk shook her head as a blush dusted her cheeks. 

"Ahh… just give us a minute," said Sans with a shit eating grin. Papyrus groaned. 

"What are you punks doing in there!?"  _ Undyne!?  _ Thought Frisk as she buttoned up her blouse. 

Once they were both dressed, Frisk went to open the door, a sheepish grin on her face, which was flush with embarrassment. Undyne shot her a curious look as Papyrus grunted his displeasure. 

"I heard what you did to the prison. I wish I could've been there to see it," said Undyne as she dragged Frisk with her. Frisk's grin faltered at the reminder as she strode down the hall with the General. 

"What is Asgore doing?" She asked as they traversed the long hallways of the safehouse. 

"Holding lots of meetings with the guard and the high council… He's getting ready for war. Lots of new recruitment," she explained. Frisk frowned as only more questions flooded her mind. 

"Do you know where the Snowden traitors were taken?" She asked breathlessly as the guilt she had forgotten for only a blissful second swarmed her once again, doubling down on her like a relentless, crashing, ocean tide. 

"What do you mean? I was never briefed about them being moved…" She trailed off. A look of understanding passed between them and Undyne rubbed her temple as a headache pounded on her skull. She was either the lousiest General or Asgore was deliberately excluding her from decisions. The rumors were right. She really was just a guard dog. 

"Well… can you look into it for me? If it's not too much to ask." Undyne eyed Frisk as they entered an outdoor chamber, still locked in the chasms of the cave system. This woman really had a way of making one want to do anything for her, and she didn't know how she did it. Was it the eyes? She knew she wasn't the only person under her enchantment, if that was even a fair thing to call it. Perhaps it was just her refreshing kindness and her unmistakable charm. 

"I'll see what I can do…" she murmured. Frisk smiled sadly and clasped Undyne's hand with a grateful squeeze. 

"Ms. De La Noir, an honor to be in your presence again," said a gentle, familiar voice ahead of them. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the Minotaur and she embraced him. 

"De La Noir?" She questioned with a giggle, "who am I, your  _ boss?" _ A fleeting darkness passed over his eyes at the memory of the prison break. 

"Well, you  _ are  _ the most powerful person in this room right now." She frowned at the words and Undyne quirked a challenging brow at the bold statement. 

_ "It's actually perfect that they're here. With their powers you can hone your defensives both inside and out,"  _ whispered Chara. Frisk nodded slowly and her face brightened. 

"Right well uh… you know that's actually why this works out. I've learned a lot of offensive magic, and I want to focus on defense," she said firmly. Undyne and Alexander nodded and spared each other a comradely look. 

"Well then… shall we?" She asked the Minotaur with a playful gleam in her eye. Alex's eyes twinkled at the idea and they both smiled at Frisk. 

"It would be my honor," he said. Undyne rolled her eyes at his formality and saluted Frisk lazily. 

"Bomb out buddies," she teased as she held her fist out to Alex and Frisk, a playfully grim reference of the firebombing. Frisk winced at the reminder but bumped her fist. 

"Is that a new thing you made up?" She asked. Undyne shrugged as she materialized a spear in her hand. 

"So defensive magic? You know to be honest, I had no idea humans could do magic… and then I met you," she murmured as she spun the spear with a flick of her wrist. Alexander hummed his agreement. Frisk glanced at the amulet hanging heavy around her neck. 

_ "Yes. We are quite extraordinary, Frisk."  _ Frisk could almost see Chara winking at her. 

⁂

  
  


_ She was awake, but she couldn’t breathe. In fact… She was awake, but she couldn’t feel. No… she wasn’t awake. She couldn’t be. Because she wasn’t alive. Or at least… she wasn’t in a body. She was a light. Smoke and mist entrapped in crystal. A tomb.  _

_ “What are you doing here?” She could hear everything. That was Toriel. She was with Toriel? Why was she with Toriel? The last thing she’d remembered was uniting her soul with Asriel. Being poisoned by a vengeful woman and a hateful “father.”  _

_ She had told Asriel to free them. Use her soul for good. What had happened? Why was she here?  _

_ “I need Chara’s soul. I know it’s still alive, and I need to extract some of her determination. I need to know that my theory works.” The Royal scientist.  _

_ “No… I won’t let you,” growled Toriel. Dr. Gaster let out a low sigh.  _

_ “Her soul will be fine… unlike most souls she has unlimited Determination. I will extract only some and bring her right back. You know I can… please your highness… I know you’ve lost everything. I know. But… this is my chance to overturn the king’s power. Through my experiment I can liberate us all and I can restore you… She’s dead Toriel… but your citizens are still alive… for now.” _

_ “You’re not taking my daughter’s soul.” _

_ “I don’t want to! I don’t want to absorb your daughter’s soul. That is a selfish motive. I’m a man of science, not a tyrant. I want to test a theory, and once I do, I will have made a way for everyone to cross the barrier without having to kill people and farm souls like your husband—” _

_ “—Ex husband.” Chara swallowed. What had happened while she was dead? Or rather… asleep?  _

_ “... Ex husband… like your ex husband wants to do. Please Toriel. I can’t ask Asgore for the souls he’s harvested. Nor would I want to. You were always more open to me and my work, funded my projects… through us… you and me, we made this Underground into a prosperous society.”  _

_ “Our work was never good enough for him. He hated everything about it.” _

_ “Toriel… are you on board?”  _

_ “... Fine. Do what you need to do.” _

_ The pain that had followed. She didn’t know it was possible to experience so much agony after death. And yet… Her soul had never really died, and she was paying the price for it.  _

  
  


⁂

Metal clanged on metal as Frisk and Undyne sparred. Their bodies were slick with sweat. Frisk's breath grew short. Alexander watched on, careful to step in if he feared Frisk was growing too tired. 

“Ok, I'm going to swing down on you. Try to summon one of your shields!” said Undyne. It hadn't been going well. She didn't know what she needed to do to unlock this magic. 

_ “To be a shield is to protect.”  _ The only tip Chara felt constructive to give. Riddles. As much as Frisk liked riddles, now was not the time to play such games. 

“Ok,” she breathed, picturing a shield on her arms. The spear came crashing down and Frisk gasped, holding up her hands as she tried to force that image to materialize. 

“Stop!” roared Alex as he caught the spear. It didn't work. Frisk glanced up to see the weapon within an inch of her fingers. He tossed it away and Undyne groaned. 

“I don't understand, you seem so at ease with your weird human magic. What's going on?” she asked. Frisk rubbed her neck as she tried to rationalize it. 

“Shields are a protection… it's the  _ one  _ kindness we're given in battle… it takes a certain mastery,” she murmured. The pieces of this puzzle never seemed to fit into place. Her magic was unpredictable. Even when she thought she had it under control, it still seemed to evade her… it still escaped her grasp, impossible to reign in. 

_ “I'm not as well versed in the shield… I was always on the offensive…”  _ said Chara sheepishly. Frisk tried to hide her disappointment, but it was hard to hide such emotions when Chara was in her mind. 

Undyne spared a look at Frisk, and then at Alexander. 

“Alright… let's take a breather,” she said. Frisk nodded and sat down near the water with a huff. Undyne watched her with that glinting yellow eye. She pursed her lips and glanced at Alex.  __

Frisk didn't know what was wrong with her. She couldn't help but get the feeling her training was being rushed. She was learning everything too fast while her body was still overcoming so much physical and emotional trauma. Determination certainly helped but… it still scared her how little she actually knew about it. 

Magic used to be so simple. Used to be that the only way to use magic was for Damian to kill someone and for her to breathe in their soul. That was what Damian, a person without Determination, had to do… But here she was. Fully capable, but oh so lost. 

“Frisk!” barked Undyne as she summoned a spear high in the air. Frisk looked up to see the spear shooting down right toward Alexander. She let out a scream and held up her hands. She had to protect him! 

_ A forceful shove. Deliberate. Desperate.  _

Alexander shot up and shielded himself with his hands, letting out a frightened bellow. Everyone froze when no pain pierced his hide; in fact the spear had shattered. 

Frisk's breath came short and she gasped when she saw the green, translucent light shimmering in the dim cavern. The corners of her lips flickered as she tried to hold on to the feeling. 

“I… I did it!” she breathed. Undyne twirled a spear in her hand and she grinned. 

“But can ya do it again?” she asked as she launched the spear after Frisk. 

_ Force. Desperate and deliberate.  _ Frisk could see the shield in her mind and as the spear whistled through the air. Her soul glinted and the spear shot into the translucent shield. She glanced up to see the tip of the magic spear trapped in the light. She reached over and yanked it out. The spear immediately disintegrated in her hands. 

Undyne threw another spear, and another and Frisk slammed them away with the shield of light. Alexander stomped his hooves on the ground and gave a delighted bellow. She was a fast learner! 

“Incredible!” he exclaimed. Undyne drew her scimitar and gave a flourishing twirl, her sword crashing onto the light. Frisk yelped as the shield shattered, sending her flying into the water. It was still weak. Easily breakable. 

Undyne gasped and dove in after her. Frisk swam back to the surface as Undyne reached her. Frisk's teeth chattered. The water was  _ freezing.  _ It bit her skin and stung her privates with the vengeance of winter. Her breath came short. 

“Are you ok?” she asked as Frisk treaded the water. She gave a giddy laugh and nodded. 

“A bit soaked and very…  _ very  _ cold! In short, I'm amazing!” Undyne laughed at her and helped her back to the shore. It was easy to swim with a Triton nearby, that was for sure. 

“My shield is still weak. It'll take a lot more practice to fully master it.” They climbed back onto shore and Frisk hugged her arms close to her body as she shivered from the cold. 

“Well… shall we continue? Or… do you want an actual breather?” asked Undyne with a giggle. Frisk grinned and nodded as she went to sit with Alex. He wrapped her in his poncho and she smiled graciously at him. Undyne came to sit across from her. 

“How's Alphys?” asked Frisk after a moment of silence had passed between them. Undyne's face fell and she glanced at the ground. 

“Haven't talked to her in awhile. I've been locked out of the lab, so… I haven't been able to force a visit. She hasn't called… I think it's over,” she said. Undyne's eye stung the longer she talked. She hadn't wanted to admit it. Alphys was deliberately ignoring her and shutting her out. 

Frisk frowned and gazed across at Undyne, her eyes wrought with concern. 

“I'm sorry you're going through that—”

“—Yeah, well honestly I'd rather not talk about it… What's your plan going forward? The prison break was a failure. What is the plan for Snowden?” she asked. Frisk shook her head as she hugged her knees to her chest. Undyne's words stung but they were true. The prison break  _ had  _ been a failure. 

She had never been a tactician. She had never taken part in any sort of revolution. At this point every move she made was merely an educated guess, influenced by Papyrus, Sans, Nick, Doug and Undyne. 

“I've been banking on convincing Angelicans to supply reinforcements and help us ambush and liberate Snowden. Nick is taking us to get initiated soon. I wish you could come too. They could use someone like you,” she said as her big eyes looked up at Undyne. Undyne could feel her soul flutter at the words. Being needed… it was something she had always wanted. 

“Me too… but that's not my place. My place is by the king's side, watching his every move and diverting the enemy away from you and our advances. They need you more than they need me.” So much certainty. So much faith.  _ What have I done to deserve so much undying loyalty?  _

“Why would you say that?” she asked. Alexander snorted and began to braid her hair. 

“You have determination. Many people are starting to believe the angel has returned. News of Frostgate's demise has spread like wildfire. So many have already decided you are that angel,” he explained. Frisk frowned. That put a lot of public responsibility on her shoulders. What if she did something that many didn't see as "angelic?" 

Still… Frisk knew that they needed hope and if her being the angel meant the monsters would finally have enough hope to rebel… Then maybe that was the role she'd have to play. 

“A war isn't fought by one person. Everyone of you is needed… Undyne thank you for your efforts. Without you, we'd be as good as dead,” she said, a soft smile warming her face. Undyne bowed her head to Frisk. 

The three sat in another comfortable silence. Alexander braided Frisk's hair, her eyes closed contentedly. Undyne hummed softly an old lullaby. Frisk couldn't help but listen to the lyrics. 

_ A hero in the least of these _

_ A hero who can fight for me _

_ A hero who can set us free _

_ Free from the darkness _

_ Free from despair _

_ Set us free to breathe fresh air _

“You are a hero,” she whispered silently. Undyne glanced up at her and a shamed frown fell on her face. She shook her head. 

“No I'm not. People… hate me. And why wouldn't they? I'm… I've executed countless monsters. Countless friends and family members. I've carried out so many of Asgore's demands. I'm not a hero…” she croaked as her eye welled up. Frisk shook her head. 

“It's the actions that make someone. You're choosing to help and not to stand idly by. You're trying. We're all trying our best. And you know… people might not want to get a beer with you, but doesn't that make what you're doing even more noble? Not expecting songs or praise. Just doing it because you have the integrity to do what's right. That's why you're a hero. That's why you're  _ my  _ hero.” She spoke so earnestly, so passionately, that Undyne started to believe it. Frisk faltered and glanced at Undyne from under her lashes. 

“Undyne… what if they've been moved to the Arena? That's where the last traitors to Asgore were taken,” she mused. Undyne furrowed her brow in thought. 

“That could very well be where they were taken. I'll go tonight and get back in touch with you, ok?” Frisk nodded soberly at the words. She was running on a fool’s hope. A fool's hope was better than no hope at all. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ooo... Some new information about Chara? We love to see it. You know what we also love to see? Sans and Frisk being in love 💕🥺
> 
> Up Next: Frisk's Angelican Initiation


	66. Echo Flowers

**A/N: What's this!? Another Art dump? It's more likely than you think!**

[ **Daddy's Little Domestic Terrorist** ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ea52a6f05dfd23c420dcdb323d97a550/a5aa802d1d396e4c-a3/s2048x3072/06b18a62f37a4768d5b53b64dbf8fb71b7d4e85c.jpg)

[ **Totally not Sans stepping on you** ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d81ba270fffb735a063f5438d7e36a97/9a4eabe1da41b82d-64/s2048x3072/8c900432e3936739cc18f24f8f7ec52f89fc4d14.jpg)

**[Totally not Sans stepping on you but he's fucking pissed off.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/05daabd7b8e93c1b2bd9fb211c1fe038/9a4eabe1da41b82d-e5/s2048x3072/86bea876449c8d07cc37be7d6c45637eca2d6d3c.jpg) **

[ **Frans cuddling 🥺🥺** ](https://64.media.tumblr.com/12a6b76e282255c013432571a41fc01e/3a84b5d7075ea295-5f/s2048x3072/2aacbe27212b744665fdcf151f73e5024c34125e.jpg)

**Ok that is all! If you want to make Fanart, I highly encourage it! Alright, now without further ado~**

* * *

Chapter Sixty-six: Echo Flowers 

* * *

Ghost Town was just as ethereal as the last time Frisk had been there. Sans gripped her hand in his as they made their way through the back streets. Nick led the way, and Papyrus, with Asriel on his shoulder, brought up the rear. Frisk felt complete with all of them there together. 

After her show at Frostgate prison, Nick had gone straight to his leader to request she be initiated. Excitement jittered through her body. _Finally._

Sans glanced up at a cracked building, his eyes zeroing in on a poster. Beside an advertisement for the arena fights and a poster for Mettaton's new bachelor TV show that utterly disgusted her was a wanted poster. It was for Sans, Papyrus and _Frisk._ With and without her mask. They glanced at each other and Sans reached up. 

She watched as he tore it down. 

"Let's see what the fucker said about us—”

“—Oh Good heavens, this is bad—”

“—Oh don't get your panties in a wad Paps…treason… standard shit… HAH! Would ya look at that kid,” he handed Frisk the wanted poster and she craned her neck to see. She scoffed and he chuckled along. 

“What are you two lookin' at?” asked Nick. Sans waved him over. 

“Well, according to the high council, Frisk is a terrorist,” explained Asriel after he and Papyrus had given it a good look. Asriel climbed down from Papyrus's shoulder and wrapped his vine around Frisk, just like old times. 

Frisk felt her soul burn with a simmering anger at the wanted poster. She crumpled it up, her soul sparking and electricity crackling from her fingers. The poster burst into flames and she dropped it into the ground. 

The guys kept walking, but Frisk couldn't stop herself from glaring at the Mettaton poster. So she was a terrorist? She took the advert down and folded it neatly before shoving it into her jacket pocket. A plan was formulating in her mind and she couldn't help but feel a wind of exhilaration enter her. 

“Frisk… what are you planning?” asked Asriel. Frisk glanced at him and then at the group of guys as they made their way down the alley. She slowly followed behind them. 

“Mettaton is premiering a new show. I say we should enter and use it to forward our agenda… and also… get… revenge,” she murmured. His beady eyes widened at the words. 

“Revenge? That… doesn't sound like you,” he murmured, concern lacing his voice. Frisk pursed her lips. 

“He raped me… he's disgusting. He deserves everything he's worked for to be destroyed,” she said with a firm nod. They shared a look of understanding. She had a serious point, and there was no way he was going to argue with her. Especially not when he agreed. 

“You're right. So… how are you going to pull it off?” Frisk frowned and glanced at Sans as he let out a bark of laughter at a joke Nick had said. The advert was burning in the back of her mind. 

“I don't know… Should I tell Sans about my plan? He’d be upset if I went behind his back… but he might not let me.” Asriel quirked a brow at her musing and glanced at the skeleton.

_“_ Why would you need his permission to do something?” Frisk was taken aback by his words. He was right. She guessed she had just gotten so used to being controlled her entire life. She would always have had to ask permission to do anything. To Claude, to Damian, then Papyrus… it suddenly hit her that she finally had the power to act on her own. And she _wanted_ to. 

_“_ Oh… yeah, you're so right. But still, communication is key and I don’t want to make any mistakes with him.” She frowned to herself and glanced up at Asriel. He nodded slowly with agreement. 

“Well, I'll vouch for you,” he said with a smile. Frisk grinned back at him and went to catch up with Sans. 

Yesterday he had asked about Muffet’s clients, anger laced in his voice. Surely he’d be on board with what she had planned, and it would help their efforts as well. She smiled softly and reached for his hand, which he absentmindedly and casually surrendered to her as if that’s where their hands had always belonged. 

She pulled herself closer to him as a chill ran through the alley. He smelled good. Like a sweet campfire. She smiled. He was wearing the cologne she liked. 

“Hm? Somethin' wrong?” he asked as they watched Nick peek around the corners and craning his neck up to check the rooftops. She shook her head and leaned against his arm. He grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

She was secretly grateful for the comfort he offered. She was growing more and more nervous the closer they got to Mama Loa's. After all, this would be when she could finally meet the Angelicans and become an official member like Nick was. Her stomach was gripped with newfound anxiety and breathed out a heavy sigh. 

“Ok, the coast is clear,” he whispered. Frisk shook herself out of the anxious stupor and jogged to him. They disappeared into the hidden door.

Nick had taken them in through the back way to avoid any civilians. Frisk, Asriel and Papyrus gasped as they came face to face with a mounted dragon head looming over the hallway. Sans grunted as she backed into him. Nick chuckled under his breath and casually slapped the dragon's chin. 

“That's just Fafnir, he won't bite… he's dead,” he said with a teasing laugh. 

“How polite…” grumbled Papyrus. This must've been so humiliating for him. Most of his adult life had been spent persecuting the very people they were about to beg they let them join. 

Sans chuckled and nudged Frisk forward. She smiled nervously to herself and ran a hand through her hair. 

“I guess I'm just a little nervous,” she murmured truthfully. Nick frowned slightly and glanced back at her, a gentle understanding flickering in his eyes. 

“Well, you don't got nothin' to fear, Frisk. We're all family here. Besides… I wasn't the only person to recommend you,” he said with a wink. Sans raised an inquisitive brow bone at her strange popularity and shared a puzzled look with his brother. He still didn't fully understand the effect she had on people. She even managed to sway Undyne to her side. 

“Who else…?” she trailed off as Nick pulled apart a beaded curtain, and she laid eyes on two familiar faces. Destiny and Agni… from the graffiti alley! Her soul swelled with excitement. She thought she'd never see them again! 

“Go ahead and take the mask off girlie, you can't fool a real tiefling,” said Destiny with a knowing smirk. Frisk blushed and untied the useless thing. They both paused as they took her in, a bit taken aback by her humanity. It always took the monsters a minute to adjust. And vice versa. She remembered how crazy scary everyone had looked to her way back when. 

They glanced up and choked when they saw Sans and Papyrus looming behind the human girl. Nick held up his hands, a sheepish smile on his face. 

"What the hell are _they_ doing here, Nick!?" Barked Agni. Frisk frowned and grabbed his hand. Sans and Papyrus were just as worthy to be there as she was. 

"Whoa, whoa, it's ok! Sans and Papyrus have been helping us! They got me out of prison and warned Gerson about the royal guard's plan against them. He's one of us," he exclaimed. Agni pursed her fiery lips and her eyes narrowed up at him. 

"We've never been able to trust anyone like them… they're the ones that killed Freddie," she spat. Sans growled under his breath at the grim reminder. That had definitely been a dark time and he didn't want to be reminded of just how much of an asshole he was back then. 

“We didn't exactly have a choice at the time…” Papyrus trailed off when he realized he didn't exactly have the room to speak out. Agni narrowed her burning white eyes at him. Her thoughts were written all over their face. They _did_ have a choice. They could've chosen to not be in the royal guard. They could've chosen to put their powers to good use instead of using them to terrorize others. To Agni, their sudden change of character was too little too late. 

"They kept her safe, didn't they?" Asked Nick. Sans lowered his eyes. Except they didn't. Muffet had tormented her for months. He grunted and held up his hands in defeat. He wasn't going to let Nick and Frisk fight his battles. He had chosen his path a long time ago and building trust with the quote unquote _good guys_ would take a lot more than an affiliation with Frisk De La Noir. He was… he was ok with that. He deserved that. 

“Nah, it's cool. We'll just wait outside while you talk—” 

“—We will?” snapped Papyrus. Sans shot him a look he rarely gave his little brother. A look he had always used when Papyrus was much younger reminded him who was older and who was truly in charge. Papyrus winced at the reminder but slowly nodded his submission. 

“Yeah… yeah we'll just be out here perusing the shrunken heads,” he said with a glint of something unknown in his eyes as he backed away. He gave Frisk's shoulder a light squeeze when she shot him a look of protest. He smiled at her and disappeared behind the beaded curtains with his brother sulking behind him. 

They listened as their footsteps retreated down the creaking hallway. 

“Destiny, babe? Can you keep an eye on them?" Whispered Agni. The tiefling girl grinned and kissed Agni before skipping away down the hall to do as she was told. Nick shot an apologetic look at Frisk and she gave an annoyed sigh. She understood the precautions but she knew the brothers.

They had thrown away everything; their comfortable existence, all their personal plans, their entire lives, for her. 

To see them… to see _Sans_ treated as if he was still the same man she had known half a year ago was quietly insulting. Like they didn't trust her judgement. _Why should they? As far as they're concerned you're a particularly controversial human. Yeah, you destroyed a prison but… that doesn't make you the boss._

“Well… uhm… So! Who are we waiting on?” asked Frisk after an awkward silence had stretched on a bit too long for her liking. Agni grunted and gestured to another door. 

“We're waitin on Yasha and her grandmother,” explained Agni. Nick shot her a puzzled look. 

“I thought Gerson would be coming. This is a special case. This isn't like the other initiations,” he argued. Before Agni could respond, the beaded curtain was pulled away and two women breezed into the room, both similar in stature and energy, despite the age difference. Gnolls; monstrous humanoid _hyenas_. 

“Gerson couldn't make it so you're just gonna have to be satisfied with my _inferior_ presence," barked the older Gnoll. Her mane of coiled locs were twisted into a large bun on the top of her head, and her body sported several white scars. 

“I didn't say that,” murmured Nick abashedly. The Gnoll grunted at him before turning her attention onto Frisk. Asriel shied into her coat with quiet fear. The younger Gnoll, Yasha circled behind her and chuffed. 

“This small little bird destroyed the prison? Normally I wouldn't believe you but—” 

“—She’s one of the Determined, Yasha. You can smell it on her.” The two hyena monsters were circling her like a hawk circles a rabbit and Frisk shrunk into herself. Part of her wished Sans was still in the room but— _No. Shoulders back. You're not a little girl and Sans isn't your father. You are a strong DETERMINED_ woman, _who has been dealing with monsters of all shapes and sizes your whole life!_

With that thought, she straightened and smiled confidently at the two hyenas. 

“Would you like a demonstration?” she asked. They looked at one another before the elder nodded curtly and the two stepped back. Asriel breathed a sigh of relief at her show of courage and allowed himself to rise from her shoulder. Nick took him off of her and the two went to sit. 

Agni spared Asriel a curious glance and Nick waved it off, a look of _we'll-get-to-that-later_ written on his brow. 

“Yes, me an' Gogo have been waitin to see what the fabled Angel can do with our own eyes,” said Yasha. Nick shifted nervously, having been the only one in the room, other than Asriel, to actually see her in action. 

Frisk searched her memory for an impressive spell that wouldn't _destroy_ the building. She suddenly wished she had brought Chara with her, but she had decided that morning that she wished to do things by herself at least for that day. A student couldn't always have their mentor… 

They watched her with anticipation as Frisk murmured under her breath, calling to the Determination in her soul. She stretched out her mind's fingers to find the winds of the monsters' magic. When she had found them, she opened her eyes and glanced at Nick. 

“Throw something at me,” she challenged. She watched as Asriel visibly paled if it were even possible for a flower to _pale._ Nick nodded and scrambled to find something to toss. Yasha wasted no time and plucked a big, heavy geode off of the desk. 

Asriel yelped and Frisk flinched back as the rock was flung at her; but her hand reached out and a blue flash of light surged through her veins. As she looked up she found the geode completely encased in a sparkling pocket of time. 

She stepped out of the way and focused on the rush of adrenaline in her body. Patience and brashness were two sides of the same coin. Her soul hummed with red light and the tips of her fingers glowed with an effervescent orange. 

The time diamond seemed to melt right before their eyes and the rock went hurling into the wall as if nothing had even stopped it. Her magic was raw. Not pure magic like the monsters, and not destructive like the dark magic Damian had practiced but _raw, unstoppable emotion._

“Impressive for a small scale. In the legends the Determined could magnify and syphon our magic. Take my hand. I want to see what I can do through you… And… what you can do through me,” croaked a more solemn Gogo. 

Frisk nodded slowly and reached out her hand. Her soul was burning in her chest and when they made contact her fingers gave a viscous spark as it welcomed the gnoll's nature. _Brashness, courage, chaos, strength._ It cracked down her fingers and the two both gave an animalistic bark of surprise. 

There had also been something dark, _shadowy,_ that gave the same energy that Arial often did. She was like the Shade. She fed on darkness. She looked up and gasped when she saw a shadowy beast clinging to her arm, snarling as if the entire night had filled the room. The magic flooded Frisk's soul and she howled, her soul flashing orange as her body vibrated with a surge of energy. Her hand struck out and _CRACK._

Agni, Nick and Asriel all gave a shout as Yasha drank it in with growing excitement. Frisk had slashed through the wall, leaving a scar through the wood that was charred from the flames dying on her fingers. She gasped and stumbled to the center of the room. Gogo whined and looked back at her body, which had gone back to normal. 

“I've never felt anything like that…” she murmured, she felt so empty now without the human's magic flooding her soul and body. Frisk doubled over, her knees shaking. The light of her soul faded back into her chest and she sucked in a frantic breath. She could still hear the echoes of destruction calling to her. The nature of the Gnoll. It was like the hellhounds and their innate need for blood. Something about it was intoxicating. 

Frisk sighed softly as the emotions receded and pulled herself straight. She brushed her bangs out from her eyes and grinned at her audience. 

“Yasha, did you see that?” barked Gogo. Yasha straightened and gave a doggish smile. 

“Clear as day!” Agni stood up and gestured to Asriel. 

“So that's decided but what about him? The… The sentient flower?” she asked. Asriel rose like a cobra and narrowed his eyes at the young girl. There was no way he'd allow himself to get treated the ways the Gasters had been. 

“He's my best friend. He's been with me since the moment I fell down here,” she offered with a desperate plea laced in her words. Gogo observed him closely. 

“His name?” she asked. 

“Asriel.” The Angelicans froze. Everyone knew that name. Asriel. Asriel Dreemur. The fallen prince. It would appear Frisk had brought _three_ potential enemy operatives. Was she trying to plant moles in their operation? 

“And what about the reapers, huh? Are we just supposed to accept these people? They could be spies,” she argued. Frisk winced at the term that was so often said with disgust when referring to Sans and Papyrus. 

Asriel didn't hide his annoyance, his eyes rolling up to the heavens. Right, they were totally spies. It's not like they had openly fought the king in his own castle, or taken in a human for months on end… _Or_ sounded the alarm for the Angelicans before the royal guard could ambush them. But no, they were totally Asgore's spies. It took everything in him not to laugh. 

“Reapers? Are they here? Nick, did you bring the Gasta's here? You didn't say nothin' about the Gasta's.” The gnolls snarled, now up in arms. Ready to defend the secrets of the Angelicans that had been entrusted to them. Nick jumped up and held up his hands. 

“Sans and his brother are not evil and to even insinuate that they are? Quite frankly that goes against everything we stand for.” Frisk nodded firmly in support of his words and the women spared each other cautious looks. 

“I trust them… Asriel isn't responsible for the insanity of King Asgore. Asriel has lived among you and among the common monsters for years as a God damn _flower._ I trust him with my life. And the Brothers? Maybe I shouldn't but they've thrown away everything for me. Sans would follow me wherever I led. I'm leading him to fight on your side. You'll need him. You'll need both of them. Face it… the Angelicans have hardly been able to hold their own. Constantly having to hide or be wiped out by the guard. The reapers are some of the most powerful monsters in the Underground. Besides… we're a package deal," she declared with an authoritative nod. 

Gogo glanced at her with a glint of something unknown in her eyes as she considered her words. 

“I like your moxie, chil'e. I respect that a great deal. Agni, it's fine, you quit bein' paranoid. It's rude. Yasha go bring them in. We'll initiate them now,” she said. Yasha nodded and jogged out to find Destiny and the brothers. 

Frisk breathed a sigh of relief, and she could feel her soul hum with excitement. _Initiation!_ She only hoped that they would be able to help her in her effort to liberate Snowden. She didn't know how much longer they'd have before Asgore did something drastic. 

⁂

  
  


Sans shifted awkwardly beside Frisk as Gogo laid out sets of cards in front of them. He felt so out of place amongst them. Here were all of these good people who had fought against the system. He felt like such a scumbag compared to all of them. At least Papyrus was there with him. Having someone in the same boat always kind of made one feel better. He glanced at Frisk and shoved away his creeping self loathing. 

“If I'd have known they were gonna do fuckin parlor tricks I would've brought some white gloves and a top hat,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. Frisk gave a hidden smirk as she tried not to smile at his quiet tease. 

“Blessed Angel, thank you for sending the Determined One to us in order to help our cause and liberate us from King Asgore's tyranny…” prayed Gogo, the room cloaked in somber silence as they paid respects to a deity that probably didn't even exist. Still, thought Frisk, it was beautiful that they believed in something. 

Sans tried not to snicker at the predicament he found himself in when the four of them drew a single card from the deck. Papyrus elbowed him when he saw the look of amusement on his brother's face. _Looks like someone's trying to overcompensate for his past…_ thought Sans with a quiet grin. 

He glanced down at his card and the amusement was gone. Judgement. Something deep within him stirred. A past memory.

_You're a judge._

He blinked. _Huh._ He thought to himself as he glanced up at Gogo. She merely nodded her contentment. 

“Show me your cards honey,” coaxed the elder Gnoll. Frisk nodded and leaned over the table. Gogo took the card and grinned. 

“High Priestess. I definitely like the look of it… and you?” Sans flipped over his card and tried not to let anyone see his shock. Asriel and Papyrus also flipped their cards over. Asriel the Sun, and Papyrus the Hanged Man. 

“Your fates are definitely bound together. Through judging the past of pain and the future of hope… to sacrificing everything and being the mediator between worlds. A divine mediator. I see nothing but power. Great power and _great_ sacrifice. Yasha, bring the ink and fire.” Gogo laughed quietly when she saw the looks of pure confusion laced with fear at her words. She leaned over the table with an amused twinkle in her eye. 

“I know. It's all so ceremonial, I hope you understand. It's fun for us. Gives us something to play with during these dark times,” she whispered. Nick snorted with laughter; it was true. Sans rolled his eyes. What was it with some people and theatrics? 

“Oh, I think it's just charming,” said Papyrus with a genuine smile. Sans grunted. Of course Papyrus liked this. He'd _always_ been one for the dramatics. 

Yasha came back with the items and they laid them out on the table. Frisk smiled and leaned back as Yasha painted a symbol on her forehead. Sans grunted as Gogo went to him and prodded his skull with her paint covered fingers. Nick couldn't help but laugh. _Asshole._

“I should join a circus with all this face paint,” he joked with a cheeky wink. Frisk giggled to herself. 

“Oh would you shut your bloody mouth?” grumbled Papyrus, his head bowed as Yasha moved to draw on his skull. 

“Both of you be nice” Frisk said with a mocking pout. He chuckled under his breath and watched as they handed them the candles. 

“Take these candles and go out into the bog until you find the patches of echo flowers. Choose your respective flower and burn it. Then, bring the blackened flowers back to us. For the records,” she said with a wink. Sans nodded with a raise of his brows. 

“Wow,” he murmured. Yasha narrowed her eyes at him but Frisk just smiled and took her candle. She held out her hand for Asriel to climb on. 

“With pleasure. Come on, Sans,” she said with that honey coated voice she always used to get her way. Sans sighed softly in easy defeat and got up to follow her. 

“Nick,” he called as they trailed out of the room. Nick nodded and stood up to attention. Sans eyed him, his grin growing. 

“You owe me big time for playing along with this cute little scavenger hunt you guys got goin' on,” he hissed under his breath. Nick's ears dropped and he gave a nervous laughter. Sans merely shrugged and took Frisk's hand as they vacated the parlour. 

“Here, Asriel, do you want to rest on Papyrus's shoulder?” she murmured. Asriel shot her a curious look, but then one glance at Sans and he quickly realized he'd be third wheeling once again, much like he had when they first went to the Capitol. He nodded hastily and Frisk giggled as she handed him off to Papyrus.

“What?” murmured Papyrus. Asriel shook his head and rolled his eyes playfully.

“Sans… Guys we should get going so we don't get caught in Ghost Town,” she said with a suggestive wink at Sans. He caught the look and his grin grew wider. All apprehensions were forgotten at the implication and he grinned down at her. 

“Yeah, uh—Papyrus, we'll meet you out in the bog!” he said eagerly as he squeezed her hand. 

“Wait! Where are we meeting!?” Red smoke surrounded them and just like that, they were gone.

Papyrus and Asriel stood alone in the back alley and shared a disgruntled look. Asriel snickered quietly and shook his head as Papyrus groaned. 

“They're like… _children.”_ Asriel laughed at Papyrus's annoyed musings. 

“It's really no use chasing after them…guess you're stuck with me,” sing-songed Asriel. Papyrus sighed as vermillion smoke enfolded around them. 

“They better not take forever. I will hunt them down if need be.” 

⁂

The city lamps were gone, and the only lights to illuminate the way through the bog were the candles. 

The flames flickered weakly as the darkness of Waterfall surrounded them on all sides. Frisk shivered and pulled herself closer to Sans. She leaned her head in his chest; he hummed his approval and ran a hand through her hair. 

“I'm sorry about the way you were treated back there. They haven't seen what I've seen,” she whispered. Sans glanced down at her with half lidded eyes. 

“I don't mind,” he said. It was half true. Part of him did mind. Part of him cared a lot about the way they had shot him nervous, fervent looks. Distrustful. Sometimes even glaring at him as if he himself was responsible for Asgore. But the other part knew he really hadn't been an upstanding guy for most of his adult life. Frisk had said so herself way long ago. He had perpetuated Asgore's kill or be killed society. He would have to work harder than ever to atone for it. It sounded exhausting but if it meant being with Frisk and fighting by her side… he knew it was worth it. 

“Are you sure?” He took her chin and pressed his fangs to her lips in a gentle kiss. She breathed out a longing sigh before they both pulled away. The twinkle of the candles in her dark eyes was enough to drive him crazy. 

“You're worth every silly ceremony I have to sit through. And you're definitely worth the effort of becoming better. You're worth—”, he cut himself off as he kissed her again, their breaths growing hotter; more needy. “—every second.” 

“So are you. I want you to know that you don't have to follow me around and do everything I tell you to do,” she whispered as she pulled back, a dark worry passing over her eyes. Sans considered her, the candles popping in the humid air. 

“It's hard not to when you're so easy to say yes to,” he murmured. Frisk blushed as he kissed her hand. 

“How do you do that?” she asked. They started the trek through the marsh. Thank God they had brought boots, or else they would've been soaked with mud. 

“Do what?” he asked. Frisk bit her lip and breathed in the sweet smoke of the candle. 

“Always know what to say… I've never _desired_ someone as much as you,” she breathed. They shared a look of understanding and their souls flickered dimly in the night. 

“I could say the same about you,” he said pointedly. They walked on in contented silence, hand in hand. 

Frisk took the time and silence to absorb her surroundings. The crickets chirped hypnotically. The slosh of water like a lullaby. Mushrooms dotted the growths of land, glowing with bioluminescent light. Moss hung from the trees… and bright blue algae blooms floated on the black water. And the faux stars… the wishing stones… they twinkled beautifully above them. It was breathtaking. Sometimes she forgot just how beautiful the Underground was. 

“You know, I used to always come out here to just… think. Not too long ago. Don't know why I stopped. Guess I just got so depressed working in the royal guard. Didn't feel like doing anything. But…” He chuckled softly as he continued, “The wishing stones are so pretty… my one wish… I've always been fascinated with stars. I just want to see real stars. I… this is stupid but—”

“—No it's not stupid,” she urged. He glanced down at her and smiled softly. 

“I… heh, _well,_ I want to sit on the peak of this mountain we're all trapped inside with a telescope and look at constellations. You know when I was a kid I used to have all these fuckin space books. And I was actually on the road to become the next royal Scientist, I had been apprenticed to my father for a few years. But then, you know… my dad and just everything,” he sighed. Frisk frowned as she listened. He'd had dreams and Asgore and the underground had completely snuffed them out. 

She squeezed his hand. She didn't know how, but she'd find a way to make his dreams come true. After all, he'd done so much for her. She wanted to return the favor tenfold. 

“That's… I want that for you. I want all your hopes and wishes and dreams to come true and… I want to be right by your side when they do,” she breathed. Sans paused in their walk and ran his thumb along her bottom lip. 

“I gave up on that a long time ago… I mean, the only way to get on the surface would be to have seven human souls…” he murmured, letting the implication hang in the air. A shudder ran down her spine. She shook her head and kissed the palm of his hand, the cogs in her head turning. The monsters all had hopes and dreams, and she wanted to see all of them come true. She wanted them to see the stars and feel the ocean breeze on their cheeks. The turning of seasons and the rise and fall of the sun and moon… surely there had to be a way. _She'd find a way._ She was determined to. 

⁂

A brittle bone sliced through the tangled moss and thicket. Papyrus's boots sloshed through the shin deep mud and Asriel was silently thankful for his perch on the tall skeleton's shoulders. 

“Dear God, it smells like death!” Asriel couldn't help but agree with the disgruntled sentiment. It really did smell awful. The bog around them burped putrid sulfuric air. He covered his face with a leaf, which hardly did him any good. 

Papyrus grumbled to himself. He couldn't believe Sans had just gone and ditched him to be alone with Frisk. Actually, thinking about it now, it was probably better off they didn't have to be around them. It was deplorably insane how much they could hardly control themselves around each other. 

He thwacked a bush with his makeshift machete and sloshed his way forward. As he rose his foot to take the next step, a revolting _squick_ emanated from the mud. He furrowed his bony brow in panic as his foot was locked into an unyielding grip of silt. 

“Oh… oh absolutely _not,”_ he growled as he yanked on his foot. Asriel perked up with newfound interest. 

“What's wrong!?” he gasped. Papyrus groaned and struggled to rip his leg out from the silt. 

“I'm stuck!” Asriel's eyes went wide before he snorted with laughter at their predicament. Stuck? In the bog. It couldn't get any funnier than that. Papyrus growled at Asriel's nonchalant attitude. 

“Don't laugh at me! Help me get unstuck!” he whined. Asriel snickered and quirked a seedy brow. 

“And how would I do that?” he asked. Papyrus narrowed his eyes at him. 

“And how am I supposed to know the answer to that ridiculous question? Just do it! And quick! These are expensive boots!” Asriel rolled his eyes and climbed down Papyrus's body. 

“Oh my God! Don't do that! That tickles!” Asriel scrunched his face and glanced up at him. 

“Listen do you want me to help you or not?—”

“—ASRIEL! Asriel I'm sinking!” He was not sinking, but Asriel wasn't about to argue with him. He gave an exasperated sigh at the melodrama that was Papyrus Gaster and tightened his vines around his boot. He shot another vine out to grab a tree branch and began to pull with all his might. 

Papyrus wriggled his foot, the mud suctioning around him and threatening to drag him down. He was stuck! He couldn't move! The more he struggled the tighter the restraints. He was too panicked to even consider the possibility of teleportation. His vision grew narrow. His breaths shallow. His bones rattled as panic stricken terror seized up in his marrow and soul. 

He gasped as he stumbled, trying to fight the restraints. 

“Please!” he begged. Asriel's humor drained from his face as he saw Papyrus's genuine distress. He quickened his pace and the kid released him with a gross _squelch_. 

Papyrus stumbled onto dryer ground and let out a shaking breath. The two sat in silence as Papyrus tried to control his rattling bones. 

Finally Asriel broke the tense silence. 

“Are you… ok?” Papyrus flinched at the sound of his voice and shot him a look. _Good work you pathetic maraca. You've lost all your composure. Get up._ He growled and stomped back up to his feet, trying to summon any semblance of dignity he could muster. 

“Fine. I'm perfectly fine,” he lied. He hadn't felt like that in years. So helpless. Trapped. It had resurfaced a memory he had long repressed. 

⁂

_The young reaper sat alone at the meager kitchen bar in the tiny apartment as he did his homework. His grades were slipping below an A and he couldn't let that happen! He_ wouldn't. 

_Papyrus glanced up when he noticed a dark, inky indigo smoke filling the living room. He immediately jumped to attention when his father stepped into their apartment._ Sans's _apartment. His soul spiked with new anxiety and he backed away._

_“Papyrus… where is my son?” asked W.D. with a slight slur. Papyrus knew immediately who he meant by the word_ “son” _and his spirits fell._

_“Sans is at work… but uh, what do you need?” he asked with a hopeful gleam in his eye. Maybe there was something he could do! After all, Sans had sworn he wouldn't give their father another second of his time, but Papyrus hadn't come to such a final conclusion! He was their_ father _after all. He loved them… he loved them, right?_

_“Nothing you could help me with,” he grumbled as he went to the kitchen. Papyrus watched with a swelling sorrow in his throat._

_“Sans doesn't have to know… Let me help, what could he do that I can't do?” W.D. grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and poured himself a glass._

_“A lot of things… except follow my instructions… Papyrus… what if you helped me with a little science experiment? Would you like to help your old man in his work to find a way to the surface?” he asked with a growing smirk. Papyrus had never felt such relief in all of his life._

_“I'll get ready!” he said. His father grinned and nodded with satisfaction at the obedience of his youngest. Much better behaved than Sans, that was for sure._

_Papyrus came back shortly after that and W.D. grabbed him by the back of his neck. Indigo smoke surrounded them and they were gone._

_Papyrus coughed as they arrived in his lab. W.D. gestured to a giant contraption and gave a triumphant grin._

_“Your brother destroyed the last one, and it certainly did set me back, but I have only improved on the first model! And I know my first mistake. I didn't keep Sans completely contained, like I should've,” he explained with manic excitement. Dread began to pool in Papyrus's spine and he shot his father a nervous look._

_“Contained?—”_

_“—Come stand at this inverter table, my boy. I will just need to strap you in so that you're stable.” W.D pushed the young boy against the table and began to tighten leather straps around his back, wrists, ankles and skull. Papyrus let out a whimper._

_“Wait, please father, I change my mind,” he whimpered as he tried to squirm against the belts. W.D narrowed his eyes._

_“Nonsense. Here, bite down on this. From the data I gathered from your brother, it'll be quite painful,” he murmured as he shoved a plastic tooth guard into Papyrus's mouth. Papyrus gagged on it and squeaked as the table flipped up and lifted off the ground._

_“Da!?” he tried to cry through the tooth guard. W.D. either did not hear him or did not want to hear him. His breathing grew shallow as the machine booted up around him. His eye sockets snuffed out with growing terror as he fought against the binds._

_He should've listened to Sans! He should've never agreed to go with their father!_ No! Stop being a baby! You can handle this, you're better than Sans. You can handle anything. Show dad that you're the best son he ever had. _He hardened his gaze at the thought and slowly, he nodded. Yes. He would be the better brother. He had to be. His father would finally see him for the winner he was._

_Then the beam shot him and the pain ripped through his body as the world warped and distorted before him. He seized up and let out a terrible cry of agony as the atoms of his body were ripped to shreds. His body blurred violently and he tried to fight. His eye flared with panic and he struggled in the binds, fighting with all of his might. But the straps only constricted around him._

_His body blurred as he was thrust into the void. He couldn't move. He couldn't_ move! _His body was tearing itself apart and there was nothing he could do! He screamed again. He begged for Sans to come save him. He begged for his dad to stop. He begged for their mother to come back to life and put an end to W.D.'s insanity!_

_His femur cracked and he screamed until his voice was hoarse. A light peered at him and he felt the soft wind of…_

_H_ e _shook violently and gave another piercing cry as the small bones of his forearm snapped in half._

_He was sobbing._

_He was begging for salvation. He was begging for death._

_Then there was a violent shake, yelling. Papyrus gave another shrill cry as he was thrust back into the rip of the space around him._

_Light pierced his eyes as his screaming cries filled the room._

_“PAPYRUS!” He had never been so happy to hear his brother's voice._

_“See, you idiot! He's fine. Another second and he would've made it to the surface!” Sans jumped over the switchboard and rushed to undo Papyrus's binds._

_“Have you lost your God damned mind!? I told you to stay the fuck away from Papyrus!” hollered Sans. W.D. growled and held up his hand. Sans seized up as his soul glowed blue._

_“You dare talk to me like we're equals, boy?” snarled W.D. Sans bared his teeth and Papyrus let out another snot-filled sob._

_“Let me go—”_

_“—He's going back in. He can make it!” snarled W.D as he went to start up the machine. Papyrus gasped and fought against the binds._

_“No! Father please! I can't go back in there! Please!” Papyrus's eye flared and smoke poured out of his sockets. Sans gasped as a small dragon skull sprung from the smoke and let forth a blast of energy. W.D. dove out of the way as Sans fell to the floor with a thud. Sans was quick to act and snagged W.D.'s soul with his magic._

_“This ends here. You are dead to us. Don't ever come back. Don't ever call. Don't ever ask for my help or Papyrus's help ever again. If you ever so much as look at us on the street I_ will _kill you. I will. I won't hesitate. Fuck. Off. Forever.” Papyrus was sobbing as Sans delivered the ultimatum. W.D. slumped on the ground as he was released, the wind completely knocked out of him._

_Sans undid the rest of the straps and grit his teeth at the sight of Papyrus's broken bones. Despite his broken arm and leg, he embraced his brother to the best of his ability. He glanced back at their father and growled. Smoke poured out of his eyes and surrounded them. They never saw W.D Gaster ever again…and it was only a few months later when the Headlines came out._

_ROYAL SCIENTIST COMMITS SUICIDE. BODY NOT FOUND._

⁂

Papyrus shook himself out of the memory and continued his trek. Asriel stared at him with growing concern. He didn't probe, but he knew whatever had been triggered by the mud, it was serious. 

“Are you ok?” he asked again. Papyrus nodded. 

“I'm sure you are aware of my family history. I'd rather not delve into all of our countless sob stories, if you don't mind. I bet you would understand given your own… history,” he murmured. Asriel nodded slowly. If there was one thing he knew about… it was dysfunctional family. 

“Yeah… you know, at least you have your brother,” he said. Papyrus hummed and nodded slowly. 

“Yes… never tell him I said this, it'll go straight to his head, but… I am so very grateful for all he's done for me. He is the one person in the world who's always been there no matter what,” he said soberly. Asriel frowned as he listened. It wasn't news to know that Sans and Papyrus loved each other unconditionally, especially after the lengths Sans had gone to stay loyal to his brother. Hearing those same sentiments from the walking lamp post, however, was an altogether different experience. 

“Well… we both have really crumby family history but one thing is for sure, Papyrus…” Papyrus spared a somber look at the flower atop his shoulder. 

“And what is that?” he asked. Asriel smiled as best he could and patted Papyrus's cheek bone. 

“We're your new family. Me, Sans, you and Frisk. We're family now. We all had bad memories but…We can make new, better ones.” Papyrus smiled sadly at the little flower's sentiments, and his soul gave a twinkle of warmth. 

“...I thank you Asriel. Truly,” he whispered. They glanced up and gasped as they arrived at a giant field of nothing but echo flowers for as far as the eye could see. 

“Well! It appears we have made it! Nyah hah hah! I bet you Sans and Frisk have not yet found their own batch of echo flowers! Come along, Asriel! We have some frolicking to do!” 

⁂

“There they are!” Sans glanced up at Frisk's announcement. There they were indeed. Hundreds of them. All scattered and dotting the edges of a large pool of pitch black water. A waterfall tumbled into the pool; he could feel the mist on his bones. 

“They're so _blue,”_ she gasped as she stooped down to caress the delicate petals. At her touch a faint whisper emanated from it's center and she jumped back with a gasp. Sans chuckled and held her steady. 

“They're called echo flowers for a reason,” he whispered. Her shock melted into a brilliant smile and she looked up at him with excitement sparkling in her eyes. 

“This place never fails to surprise me!” she squealed as she kneeled down beside the bed of flowers, placing the candle and it's holder on a rock. Sans's grin softened as he watched her stroke the petals. 

_“I wish that one day I'll be able to relax at a beach. A real beach. And feel the sand in my toes.”_

_“I wish that the purges would end.”_

_“I wish… I_ pray _that my grandfather will recover in time for spring. Please._ Please. _He's been so strong…”_

_“I wish my husband luck in the arenas.”_

_“I wish the king would break the barrier… I wish I get to see the surface before I die.”_

A tear rolled down Frisk's cheek. Her vision blurred and eyes burned as the words and emotions swelled in her soul. Her body shook and Sans sat beside her. Their candles flickered side by side as the most from the waterfall drifted to them. 

“You're all so strong,” she croaked as she tried to stifle her cries. He nodded slowly and put a comforting hand on her back. 

“We'll win.” Frisk looked up at him through her eyelashes, her lip trembling at the daunting future ahead of them. There was going to be a war, she just knew it. And not only that but all the people she held dear were most likely dead. She felt worse that she had been too busy to truly mourn them. What if they were still out there? Still fighting. Trapped… where had Asgore taken Charlotte? Her eyes welled up, her throat tightened as she was reminded of her failure.

Sans clenched his jaw when he saw her distress and he brushed her bangs out from her eyes. 

_“We will win,”_ he said again, his resolve firm and unyielding. For a long time he had given up. On everything. But Frisk had a way of riling him up. Stoking his fires and making his soul burn. He _wanted_ victory. He wanted it. He didn't want to keep waiting. He wanted to fight. Right there by her side. 

One day… he'd be able to look at stars and she'd be there by his side pointing them out to him with that unwavering enthusiasm she always carried. He'd be just as enamored by her as he was now. But first… they had to _win._ And they would. _They would._

He picked a flower and flicked it's pedals. She watched, tears rolling down her face as he leaned in. 

“I love you,” he whispered. Frisk's lips twitched and leaned her head on his chest. She caressed the pedal. 

_“I love you,”_ it echoed. Her lip trembled and she smiled that hidden smile. She plucked another echo flower from the ground and copied him, whispering something he couldn't hear. She gave it to him and he grinned as he brushed his thumb over it. 

_“_ je t'aime tellement… _Unconditionally.”_ They shared a long, yearning gaze before Frisk pressed her lips against his fangs. He pulled her into his lap, candles casting soft light on them as they melted into each other. As Frisk gently pushed him onto his back, the bed of flowers around them echoed their professions of love. His hands trailed up her shirt, bones against skin as her lips peppered his jaw and neck in soft little kisses. 

_“I pray an angel will save us.”_

_“I hope she'll say yes.”_

_“I pray for a miracle.”_

_“I wish for happiness.”_

Frisk moaned quietly and rose, dragging him up with her, hands cupping his jaw. 

“We should probably finish the initiation,” she breathed against his fangs. 

“We'll just say we got lost,” he growled as his hands squeezed her thighs. She gave a soft whine, her legs straddled tightly around his pelvis. 

“We shouldn't make them wait,” she moaned into his jaw. Sans chuckled darkly as she fervently rolled her hips against his crotch. 

“Well I'll stop when you stop,” he purred back. She hummed greedily as she bit and sucked at his neck and trailed down to his collarbone. 

“It's probably—” she gasped “—Not a good idea.” Sans shrugged and he twisted over to pin her underneath him. She gripped his jacket to keep herself from hitting the ground and whimpered as he teased her neck with his fangs. 

“And yet…” he growled as he looped his arm under her knee and shifted her onto the flower bed. She giggled before sighing with disappointed resolve. He drove her mad but she had to control her desire for him. At least for now. After all, they _were_ in the middle of something. Something important. 

_“Sois patient—_ there will be plenty of time for that later, _mon amour…_ ” she purred as she kissed his cheek bone. He grunted his displeasure, but didn't push it. He believed her promise and dragged himself away from her. Besides… all good things came to those who waited. 

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he hummed as he ran a finger down her chest. She bit her lip as he picked her up off the ground. She risked losing herself to him again to give him an affectionate kiss. 

“Let's get this over with then,” she said as she went to pick the candles up off of the rock. He watched her before glancing down at the ground and stooping down to pick up the flowers they had picked. 

They turned back to each other and chuckled as they handed each other their respective props. 

“bottoms up,” he murmured as he held the flower over the candle. Frisk smiled softly and watched as her flower was engulfed in flame. The fire popped and cracked and when the flowers were blackened but not ash, Frisk dipped them into the water. 

Sans grinned at her— the mark on her forehead was a bit smudged. 

“What?” she asked when she saw the playful look twinkling on his face. He pointed to her forehead and then at his and grinned that shit eating grin that always spelled trouble. 

“Well… _Judging_ by the looks of it, your face paint is a bit smeared. Not very priestly of you,” he said with a cheeky wink. Frisk rolled her eyes playfully but didn't fight to hide the grin growing on her blushing face. 

“You're fault,” she quipped as she laced her fingers with his. He quirked an amused brow. 

“Oh?” She bit her lip and shrugged coyly. Red smoke. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sans and Frisk are honestly so adorable I love them so much 😤 
> 
> Up Next: Both Alphys and Sans receive guests... Some expected... And some extremely unexpected...


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